Stumble and Fall
by Avelynn Tame
Summary: A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and makes no secret of his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greets him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** I've been sitting on this for a while, carefully editing and re-editing until I decided it was fit to be seen by human eyes. This is slightly more manga-based than some of my other fics, but there are elements of the drama in it. I do tend to see the 'main five' guys in their drama forms (since, for example, Oguri Shun as Uchi is much more pleasing to the eye than manga-Uchi).

Happy reading!

* * *

**Prologue**

After completing her teaching degree, Kumiko had of course spent a year in compulsory teacher training, and like all other graduates she had split this year into two six-month stints – one at a smaller, rural high school and the other at a larger school in the centre of Tokyo. It had been a wonderful experience – at each school she had been welcomed by all of the teachers, the students had been courteous and hardworking, and by the end of her time there, she felt that she had learned a lot.

But although they were nice schools, in a good area, with pupils who worked well above the academic standard that they were expected to achieve, Kumiko did not apply for a position at either of them when the year was up.

Instead, much to her colleagues' surprise, she applied to the infamous Shirokin Gakuen, whose students could allegedly strike fear into the hearts of even the toughest of men. "But... they're _violent_," the other maths teacher at the larger city school, Hayashi-sensei, had tried to dissuade her. "Most of them are members of gangs... not to mention the number of times they've been arrested. Yamaguchi-sensei, are you _sure_ about this? You'd be able to get a job here easily if you wanted one."

Kumiko had smiled, and thanked the other woman. "But I _want_ to work there," she explained. "That type of student is exactly who I want to work with – so that I can help them, and be the kind of teacher who won't just turn her back to that sort of thing."

No-one got it. Instead they all wondered how the small, geeky, nervous Yamaguchi-sensei could possibly cope with a class of brutal delinquents.

Kumiko knew what they were thinking, and wasn't surprised. People had made those assumptions about her all of her life. A lot of them had later discovered just how wrong they were, but some slipped through the net, and would carry the misconception with them for as long as they lived.

Still, it didn't really matter to her. All she cared about was getting the job at Shirokin. She was happy to leave the comfort of the nest, and to take on a much more demanding role. It was what she felt she was made for.

She still occasionally kept in touch with her former colleagues at Okida Gakuen and Yasuda Gakuen, initially because she had wanted to reassure them that she had survived the first week with all of her limbs intact, but later because she was proud of her students and wanted to share the latest news. She already knew that some of the teachers there were beginning to change their minds about Shirokin based on what she told them, and it reinforced her belief that she had made the right decision.

Her first year at Shirokin passed by, and her second was almost half over by the time she gave any thought to the idea of new teachers (after all, it was hard enough keeping hold of the ones they already had).

"Ah," Hayashi-sensei said over the phone, one cool crisp day in September, "it's getting to _that_ time of year, isn't it?"

"That time..." Kumiko repeated. "What do you – oh, you mean about the new trainee teachers? Of course, your second batch will be starting soon. You'll have to keep me updated with their progress."

"Well, yes, but what about you?"

"Hmm?"

Kumiko had assumed that, as there were no trainees in sight when she had first started at Shirokin, that there was no training programme in place. She supposed that it would be quite a stressful place to train, but then, it would be one way of proving a teacher's worth. If they could cope here then they could cope anywhere.

Her assumption, logical though it was, turned out to be false.

"Oh no, we do have a training programme," the principal told her later that day. "It's just that... well, no-one ever applies."

"Oh." She blinked. "No-one at all?"

He sighed, staring out of the window. "There are too many schools now, and too few teachers. With all of the training programmes being offered by other schools... well, not many people are willing to trade a top-ranked school for a place like Shirokin."

Kumiko couldn't help but feel indignant on behalf of the place she now considered to be her own school. "What about this year?" she demanded, half forgetting who she was talking to. "Have you had any applications so far?"

He shrugged. "The deadline is in two weeks. I'm not really expecting anything – we haven't had any interest in years."

She slammed her palms down onto the desk, making the old man flinch. "Well, that's not right! People shouldn't just decide against the school based on its reputation. Either they can call themselves teachers or they can't! No teacher worth their salt would choose only to work at 'good' schools – that kind of person isn't a teacher at all!" Her mouth was set in a thin, firm line. "Principal, would you mind if I sent out some notices to universities in the area to publicise the opportunities at Shirokin?"

He gave her a sad smile. "It's nice to see someone with enthusiasm for this kind of thing, but please don't get your hopes up, Yamaguchi-sensei. By all means, send out as many notices as you like – I'll be glad if even one person applies."

"Then let's just aim for one person," she told him with a confident smile. "One is better than none at all, right?"

That day she worked hard at putting together a small, punchy poster and sent it out to as many universities as she could. Just one person could make the difference, she thought.

After that, it barely crossed her mind – she had to organise rigorous tests for the boys of 3-D, who once again were slacking off and needed to be reminded that hard work had to be done on a continuous basis rather than just sporadically, whenever they were in the mood.

By the time she had got through _that_ trial, the deadline had passed the previous week, and it was with some trepidation that she went to see the principal to find out what the result had been.

"Oh yes," he said, his face brightening. "I meant to tell you earlier – we did have an applicant. I accepted him instantly, of course – his CV is really quite impressive. He's starting next week."

Kumiko's spirit was lifted immediately at the idea that, with even a little bit of effort, Shirokin could have as much success as any other school. Just imagine, she thought, what could be achieved if they _really_ tried.

"Yamaguchi-sensei?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry..."

"I was saying that our new trainee is unique because he'll be splitting his time between maths and physics – he studied both subjects at university, you see. So he'll be helping you with your classes."

"Ah! Excellent. I'll be glad to pass on my expertise." She grinned, pleased with the idea of taking someone under her wing.

"Yes, well..." the principal cleared his throat, "just be careful with 3-D. If all goes well we could be giving this man a job – I don't want him to be scared off by a bunch like that."

Kumiko frowned but held her tongue. She usually expected the principal to be kinder – he had, after all, hired _her_ – but he was obviously worried about losing a potential teacher. She elected not to scold him, and beat a hasty retreat before he could notice that she was ticked off.

This would be the first new teacher to arrive since she herself had started working at Shirokin. She remembered the advice she'd been given – wear a tracksuit and trainers so that you can run easily; don't walk through the school grounds alone; always carry a whistle so that you can call for help.

She snorted. The kids here were arrogant and rowdy, that was true, but the teachers were equally problematic – too cowardly to hand out discipline when it was necessary, too narrow-minded to see what was beneath the surface, and too lazy to make any effort to solve problems – they would rather let someone else deal with it.

With any luck, she would be able to show this new teacher the right path – and having 3-D around might even be a help. If ever there was a perfect example of why good teaching was necessary, it was 3-D.

She grinned again to herself, and picked up the phone to compare notes with Hayashi-sensei.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just setting the scene… things will start happening soon, I promise! In the meantime, for each review I receive, I will eat an M&M! Everybody wins! (Well, mainly me…)


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes: **I should mention that Shinohara is not in this story, partly because he annoys me and I couldn't bring myself to include him, and also because I've got another multi-chapter story planned which will deal with the Shinohara/ Kumiko/Shin triangle. So the lawyer will have to wait his turn…

* * *

**Chapter One**

The following Monday, Kumiko ran late as usual; by the time she arrived at school she knew that the faculty meeting would be over and so she sprinted straight to 3-D's classroom to do the attendance register.

"Late again, Yankumi," Uchi called as she nearly collapsed out of breath against her podium. "What kind of example are you setting for us?"

"Ah, you want an example, huh?" she panted, shrugging off her heavy sweater and glaring at the few students who dared to start humming a suggestive tune. "How about this for an example, then – a _double_ pop quiz in your maths class today. Is that a good enough example for you?"

"Aww, Yankumi..." he started to complain. "Too harsh…"

"Yes, _Yankumi_, it does seem very unkind. Surely only one pop quiz is necessary?"

"Ehh, don't kid yourself," she muttered, reaching into her bag for the register. Then her brain seemed to catch up, and she turned suddenly to the doorway, and the owner of the voice. "Y-You!" She pointed, her mouth dropping open in shock. "What are you doing here?"

A man was leaning against the doorway, a small smile playing about his lips. He looked to be about Kumiko's own age, with thick dark hair and bold, black-framed glasses. His clothes were casual – black jeans and a white shirt – and they suited his cool, calm demeanour. "Didn't they tell you?" he asked lightly. "I'm the new teacher." His mouth curved up into a grin. "Please take care of me, _Yamaguchi-sensei._"

The way he said her name made a strange tingle travel down her spine, but she brushed past it. "But... senpai, you're not a teacher – are you?"

"Actually, I just finished my postgraduate course." He grinned. "So I guess you can call me 'sensei'." He pushed away from the door and came into the classroom, glancing curiously at the students who had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene in front of them.

His eyes, darker than she remembered, returned to her; they swept over her slowly from head to toe, and her stomach flip-flopped in response. "Still the same woman I knew at university," he murmured at last. "I guess you'll always be my kouhai, huh?"

She lifted her chin indignantly. "Technically, Maruyama-_sensei_, since you're still a trainee teacher, I think that makes me _your_ senpai."

He raised one eyebrow, apparently intrigued. "Well, then, I hope you'll tutor me sometime, senpai."

"Ah, no can do." She shook her head apologetically. "That'd be special treatment. It'd be unfair."

He moved even closer to her until there was hardly any space between them, and she had to tip her head backwards just to see his face. He was still looking at her in that strange, almost heated way. "Shame," he said in a low voice. "I was hoping it'd be like old times." He lifted a hand to her glasses, pushing the bridge up her nose slightly. "Haven't seen these before."

"I got tired of the contacts," she explained. She was starting to feel a little self-conscious at the way he was standing so close and ignoring her students who were watching in silence. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, senpai, what made you decide to apply to Shirokin?"

"I saw the poster," he said, glancing around the classroom at the graffiti and the mess as he spoke. "Actually, I saw your name on the poster and thought it would be fitting. It was you who made me want to become a teacher, after all."

She blinked at this revelation. "But what happened to your research at the university?"

"It didn't really hold my interest. Something was missing."

She beamed brightly at him, and the sheer force of it seemed to knock him off balance. "And you found that something in teaching!" She clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful. Anyway, senpai, we can catch up later – for now, let me introduce you to my most important students." She turned away, and thus missed the brief glimpse of frustration that passed across his face. "This is 3-D, as I'm sure you know. They're wonderful boys; just ignore what all the other teachers say about them. Oh, and don't pay any attention to what you read in the newspapers, either."

"Oi, Yankumi," Minami interrupted. "Is this you trying to say nice things about us? Because you kinda suck at it."

"Oh, shut up," she scolded. "You know I think you're great – you don't need to hear me say it." She gestured to the man standing next to her. "This is Maruyama Takumi. He'll be with us for the rest of the school year while he trains as a new teacher, so please take good care of each other, and please listen to him as you would listen to me –" She sensed the potential for a fairly liberal interpretation of this, and fixed them with a hard glare, adding, "– or you will face my wrath."

The bell for the first lesson rang loudly. "Ah, that's our cue, Maruyama-senpai." She quickly filled in the register, picked up her bag and gestured to the door. "Our first class is 2-B – ah, Fujiyama-sensei!" She smiled at the English teacher who had just arrived. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Yamaguchi-sensei," Fujiyama greeted her. "Maruyama-sensei." Her eyes darted between the two of them and she winked at Kumiko. She leaned in and whispered, "Sneaky minx, snagging the only good-looking one in the school!"

"What?!" Kumiko spluttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, Yamaguchi-sensei," said Maruyama, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Oh, yes, you're right." She was still flustered, sending confused distress signals to Fujiyama. "Uh – see you later, class." She hardly noticed the way that Maruyama stuck close to her as they left.

Fujiyama did, of course, and she smiled to herself as she was preparing to start the class. "_Good morning,_" she said in English.

Normally at this point, they would all eagerly respond in English, but today they were shifting restlessly. Fujiyama frowned. Even their desks were in their normal positions instead of being pushed close to the front as they usually were for her class.

"That guy," said Kuma, "who is he?"

"You mean Maruyama-sensei?" Fujiyama asked, beginning to hand back the class's assignments. "He's a new teacher – he has to complete part of his compulsory training here. Didn't Yamaguchi-sensei tell you?"

There was very little response. "_OK,_" she tried again in English. "_Let's begin. I want to talk about the environment. Uchiyama, which issues are important in terms of the environment today?_"

"How does he know Yankumi?" Uchi asked, sticking obstinately to Japanese. "She called him senpai."

Fujiyama's mouth pursed as she gave the class an exasperated look. "They were at university together," she admitted reluctantly, remembering what he'd told the other teachers that morning at the faculty meeting. "Maruyama-sensei was in the year ahead of Yamaguchi-sensei and they were friends. That's all I know. Now," she steeled herself for a third attempt, "_the environment. Uchiyama?_"

* * *

At morning break, Kumiko found herself without Maruyama, as he had been whisked away by the physics teacher for a tour of the science labs. She had to admit, she was slightly relieved. It had been wonderful to meet him again, but she'd hardly had a moment to herself. Now, at least, she had a few moments to lose herself in her thoughts.

Or, specifically, to reminisce.

She'd first met Maruyama Takumi when he started dating one of her friends. He had been fun to hang out with – always easy to talk to and quick to make a joke, even at his own expense. Of course, he'd been attractive, too – back then, his hair had been a little longer and wilder. His black glasses, which might have looked geeky on anyone else, suited his dark features. She had been instantly attracted to him, but she'd kept quiet about it since he was taken (and by one of her friends, no less).

Shortly afterwards, he and her friend had broken up for reasons never divulged. But although her friend opted not to spend time with him anymore, Kumiko and Maruyama had maintained their friendship. He was in the year ahead of her, with a double major of maths and physics – as they were both studious types, they spent a lot of time together in the library, which was how he ended up tutoring her.

She'd often wanted to tell him how she felt. She'd had enough opportunities – all of those days they spent sitting close to each other in a secluded corner of the reading room, comfortable silence wrapped around them like a much-loved blanket. But somehow the timing had never felt right. When he finished his degree, he had stayed at the university to do research, but by the last year of _her_ degree they were both so busy that they hardly ever saw each other. Then she had been offered her first training position at Okida Gakuen, and he'd gone away on a trip to Europe with the university – all that considered, they'd never even been able to say goodbye properly.

At that time, Shinohara had also been in the picture, and that had been unrequited, too. She'd just chalked it up as something that wasn't meant to be, and had done her best to forget about it.

Now that he was back, she would freely admit that there was still a small smoking ember of attraction remaining, but it was nothing compared to the torch she had once carried for him. Most of her memories of their time together were good, warm, positive memories. Their friendship had been strong and wonderful – she hoped that they could pick up where they'd left off as far as that was concerned.

She'd been so surprised to learn that he was a teacher now. And more than that, _she_ – his junior – had been the reason for it. "At first I didn't understand why you had such a passion for it," he'd told her as they walked to 2-B. "But then one of the professors at the university asked me to go with him to one of the high schools to promote science degrees, and we decided to demonstrate an experiment." He paused a moment, remembering, and sighed. "The looks on their faces… I thought I wanted to see that every day. And then I remembered how dedicated and enthusiastic you were about teaching, and I decided to follow in your footsteps."

She grinned up at him. "I'm really glad."

When he smiled at her, she felt her heart jump. _Bad idea_, she'd thought. It was one thing to have a crush on someone outside the workplace, but if you brought those feelings to work, it could have a detrimental effect on your ability to teach, not to mention relationships with colleagues.

And now, two and a half years after they had last seen each other, here he was again – this time as her colleague. She was surprised by how much he remembered about her – all of her little likes and dislikes, her habits and mannerisms. He had teased her about the pigtails. "They make you look young," he told her. "They're cute – but don't people confuse you with a student?"

"Not unless they also think I look like a boy," she'd replied with a quirk of her lips. "This being an _all_ _boys_ school."

In class, he also liked to banter with her in a gentle manner. The other students had seemed amused by the way that one of their teachers fired off a shot and the other would make a return just as quickly. It was all good-natured, and it made the atmosphere relaxed. To her surprise, she'd been able to get the whole class involved with the lesson. It made her look forward to the rest of the day, and especially her afternoon class with 3-D.

The 3-D boys were the students she was most fond of. If they liked Maruyama… well, it would be a sign of a truly good teacher. Of course, some days she wasn't even sure that they liked _her_, but she had to at least try.

"Ugh." Fujiyama plopped into the seat next to Kumiko. "Your class were worse than usual this morning."

Kumiko blinked. "3-D? But… you never have any problems with them. Or any class, for that matter."

"Exactly!" She glared at Kumiko as though it was all her fault. "They wouldn't do any work. All they wanted to do was talk about you and Maruyama-sensei."

Kumiko grinned. "Aww, they liked him too, huh? I _thought_ they would. And after such a short meeting, as well. I guess he makes a good impression."

Fujiyama frowned. "But that's the weird thing – the way they talked about him, I don't think they _do_ like him." She gave an annoyed grunt. "If Sawada had been there, it wouldn't have been so bad – he can usually keep them under control."

"Eh? Sawada? But… he was in this morning when I did the register." She smacked her palm against her thigh. "Damn him, sneaking out of class. When I get hold of him…" She shook her fist. But a few moments later, she got to her feet. "I'll go and see if he's still around. If Maruyama-senpai – I mean, sensei – turns up, can you tell him we've got 1-A next? If he goes straight there I'll catch up with him."

She knew where to look for Sawada, of course – the roof was his main refuge. Sure enough, she found him leaning against the railing, staring down at the courtyard below. "Sawada," she greeted him, "If you're in school, you might as well go to class, don't you think?"

His face was stony, although he wouldn't look directly at her. "Then I guess I'll go home."

"Hey –" she grabbed his arm. "What's up with you?" She stepped closer, trying to get a good look at him. "Sawada, if you're having problems with your family –"

He wrenched his arm away. "Leave it alone, will you? It's not my family – it's personal. So… can't you just stay out of it for once?"

"Sawada…" Her mouth set in a grim line. "You know me too well now – do you really think I'm the kind of person who'll say, 'Ah, well, okay, I'll let you deal with it on your own, don't forget to do your homework, bye!'?"

He let out an involuntary huff of laughter, and some of the tension seemed to ease. But he still wouldn't look at her. "It's just…" He looked to be wrestling with some great inner demon of his, and finally came to a decision. "Girl stuff. You know?"

"Oh." That was kind of surprising. Wasn't this the same Sawada whose disinterest in girls was well-known – almost legendary, in fact – both within Shirokin and apparently at some of the nearby girls' schools as well? (She had overheard a group of Meibi High girls giggling about what a coup it would be to snare Sawada Shin, a boy who was not easily impressed.) "You can ask me for advice, you know."

He gave her an odd look. "No, thanks."

She decided not to push too much on this one. "Well, if you change your mind, let me know. But at least listen to me when I say this: don't ask those friends of yours for help. Something tells me they'll only make the situation worse." She wrinkled her nose, thinking. "Kyou-san wouldn't mind giving you advice."

"I'll think about it," he said reluctantly.

She changed the subject. "So what was up with 3-D this morning? Fujiyama-sensei was saying that she had trouble dealing with them."

He shrugged, but she caught his lips twitching as though he was amused. "Something must have got them all worked up. Or _someone_." For the briefest moment his eyes met hers, and she thought that he was trying to make a point.

Whatever it was, she didn't get it. "Well, I hope they've calmed down by this afternoon – Maruyama-sensei will be in our class, and since I've done nothing but rave about you guys today, it'd be a shame if I had to knock some heads together." Her glasses gleamed, and she was so busy cracking her knuckles that she didn't notice the way Sawada's shoulders became stiff and his jaw clenched. "That goes for you too, Sawada – if my star student doesn't turn up, what does that say about me, huh?"

A distant bell rang, and she cursed. "I'm late – see you later, Sawada!"

She thought she heard a murmur of acknowledgement, but she was already flying down the stairs. She sincerely hoped that he would be there this afternoon. In his own way, he exerted a very calming influence over the rest of them, and even herself at times. It was often a relief to see him sitting in his seat, either lazily watching her from under his unruly mop of hair, or just sleeping. If 3-D were in one of their _moods_, it was a lot easier to settle them if he was around.

It was the kind of ability that would make him good with kids, she thought, amused. Then she smiled as she imagined how horrified he would be if he could hear her thoughts right now.

_Sawada Shin, kindergarten teacher._

Class 1-A were somewhat startled to see their maths teacher burst out laughing as she walked through the door.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Love it? Hate it? Got sent to this page by accident and don't care? REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** I wanted to post this so much sooner, I promise! But circumstances have conspired against me (as they are wont to do). Thank you all so much for your reviews – they give me warm and fuzzy feelings. Keep 'em coming! And happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Finally, that afternoon rolled around, and it was with mixed feelings that Kumiko led Maruyama to Class 3-D. She'd already introduced him to her, "Fight-oh! Oh!" ritual, and he had taken to it with gusto. The downside of this was that he liked to say it at a much louder volume than she was used to, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he bellowed, "FIGHT-OH! OH!" and slapped his hand on top of hers.

He laughed at her expression. "Was that too much? Sorry, I'm just nervous…"

"Ah, don't be silly," she chastised him. "They're great, really. Come on, let's go."

Once again, he stuck close to her as she pushed open the door. It wasn't something that she was used to, exactly, but he didn't make her feel uncomfortable, and she didn't get the impression that he was doing it for _perverted_ reasons.

"Good afternoon, class," she greeted them – taking a brief moment to scan the room and feeling relieved when she saw Sawada there. "You met Maruyama-sensei this morning – he's going to be helping out today."

She was hoping for them to make an effort to greet Maruyama, but the predominant reaction seemed to be a collection of scowls and grunts. Still, it was better than nothing.

She handed a stack of papers to Maruyama. "Can you hand these back for me? They're the class's assignments from last week. It'll be a good way for you to get to know the students' names."

"Sure." He picked up the top-most sheet. "Uh… Sainei Ryuuji?"

No-one replied.

Kumiko cleared her throat loudly and glared.

A short boy with scruffy hair flicked his hand casually. "Over here."

"Sainei…" Kumiko growled.

Sainei sighed painfully. "Overhereplease_sensei_."

She grinned widely and gave him a thumbs-up. While Maruyama continued handing back the homework, she flipped open a heavy textbook and started writing a selection of problems on the board.

"Ah." Maruyama's voice made her half-turn to look at him. He held up someone's sheet. "You still write your threes with a loopy tail." He raised an eyebrow. "Even though I'm sure that _someone_ said you shouldn't do that because it was too confusing."

Her lips curved slightly. "Well, _someone_ should have known that I'm very reluctant to change my habits." She turned back to the board, reaching up to write the second problem. "Besides, I think it looks cute."

"Oh, I _see_," he teased. "It's part of your 'Be Cute For Romantic Success' initiative. How's that going?"

Her mouth dropped open and she rotated very swiftly on the spot to stare at him. "You – that – How do you remember that?" She grabbed her very heavy textbook with both hands and lifted it up. "Actually, never mind, just stand still while I _beat_ you for tarnishing my good image in front of my students."

He laughed and pretended to shield himself with the remaining papers. "Your _good_ image? How did you get one of those?"

"I'll have you know that I have a _very_ good image, unlike some people I could talk about –"

"Oh, are you bringing _that_ up again? It was all a misunderstanding, and no-one ever pressed charges in the end –"

The sound of a chair scraping loudly against the floor made Maruyama break off. Uchi stood up, slouching with an annoyed expression over to where Maruyama stood. He rudely yanked the papers from the teacher's hands and started to hand them out himself.

"Hey –" Maruyama began, looking irritated.

But Kumiko interrupted. "No, sensei, Uchiyama is right – we should be getting on with the lesson." She turned to gesture at the board. "All right, we went over this material all of last week so it should still be fresh in your mind. I'm going to be asking people to come up and work through these problems. Don't get stressed about being able to solve them the first time – tell me if you're stuck and we'll go through them together. Then I'll set some classwork."

She scanned the room, trying to decide on a victim. Uchi was still standing up, so she pointed at him. He rolled his eyes and groaned while she grinned at him. "Come on, I know _you_ can do these – I marked your work last night and you got most of them right." She gestured for him to come up.

She had to admit, she was a little surprised. They were all cooperative today – sure, they all seemed to be in some kind of dark mood, but it wasn't stopping them participating in class.

Uchiyama sidled up to her and reluctantly accepted the chalk. "Ok," she told him. "Do your best."

He gave her a strange little smile and began his attempt to solve the problem. Several times she noticed that he was going astray, so she drew his attention back to the original numbers. "And don't forget what happens when you integrate an integer."

"Add the _x_, right." He finished it, stepping back to examine the mess he'd made of the board.

"That's great, Uchiyama," she praised, startled to find that he was grinning as well.

She noticed that Maruyama was standing off to one side, looking a little left out. "Okay, sensei, your turn." She held out the chalk to him. "Pick your student and help them out. Good work, Uchiyama," she said again as Uchi returned to his seat.

Maruyama took his time deliberating, and eventually made a decision. "Sawada Shin!"

Kumiko watched Sawada scowl, his expression more fierce than she had ever seen it before. At first he did not move from his seat, and Kumiko began to feel nervous. Sawada was remarkably cool and calm most of the time, but if he was pushed he was very capable of lashing out both verbally and physically. She _really_ hoped that this would not be one of those days.

Sawada glanced at her; she sent him a pleading look, as subtle as she could possibly make it. He seemed to sigh, and at last got up, dragging his feet all the way to the front of the classroom.

Maruyama handed him the chalk. "Now," he said, "with this problem, it's best to start –"

"I know what to do," Sawada cut him off. He worked through the problem faster than any other student Kumiko knew, the chalk hitting the board hard, his writing coming out in short, impatient strokes. When he finished he turned to her, ignoring Maruyama. "Is that right?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "You already know it is, you clever idiot."

He smirked. "That's an oxymoron, moron."

She smacked him lightly on the side of his head. "Don't call your wonderful teacher a moron."

As he passed the chalk back, his hand lingered on hers and she had one brief second to notice that she liked the feeling of his cool fingers against her warmer ones. But it was a fleeting moment, and one which no-one bar the two of them could have noticed. Then he was gone, already moving back to his seat. She gave herself a mental shake. _What was that about?_

"All right," she said loudly, brushing it off. "Imagawa!"

The rest of the lesson was _far_ from a smooth ride – by the end of the day she decided that it was just a matter of building the trust between Maruyama and the rest of the class. He was new; they weren't used to him yet. That was okay, she'd been there before herself. She knew that just as they had slowly grown to accept her, so they would accept Maruyama as well in time.

As it was the last period of the day, she usually did the attendance register a little early so that they could leave early. The class seemed particularly relieved, which she could understand – it was Monday. Everyone felt that way on Monday.

"Hey," Maruyama leaned next to her against the podium. "Do you want to get dinner after this?"

Was it her imagination or had everyone in the room suddenly stilled? She glanced up; no-one was looking at her, they all seemed to be deeply preoccupied with their bags or lockers.

She turned back to Maruyama. "Uh, I can't – I have a family thing to attend. Sorry." It wasn't a lie, exactly; her grandfather had planned a special dinner to congratulate Tetsu and Minoru for their recent hard work and discuss increasing their responsibilities, and she wanted to be there. Plus, Nagayama-san had promised her a large fish and she intended to stop by the stall and pick it up on her way back.

He wasn't put off. "Ah, it's ok. Maybe sometime this week, then?"

"Sure." She stuffed her papers into her bag. "So where are you living these days, anyway? I don't remember you having relatives in this area."

"I'm renting a place nearby," he told her as they followed the flow of students out of the classroom. "It's… basic." He laughed. "Actually, I just have a sofa and a table – it's all kind of in the same room."

This scenario sounded so familiar that Kumiko automatically looked for – and found – Sawada Shin, who was nearby in the crowd. They shared a small, complicit smile.

"But that's what a bachelor pad is supposed to be like, right?" she said to Maruyama.

"Ah, I see," he murmured thoughtfully. "And then when I meet a woman, she brings her feminine influence and makes it into a home – is that how it works?"

"I think – maybe," she replied. Living in a house of men, she wouldn't really know.

They parted ways at the school gate with a wave. Kumiko had been walking for a while, lost in thought, when a familiar voice said, "Got that Maruyama guy on the brain?"

_Sawada._ Of course it was Sawada – wasn't it always he who knew exactly what she was thinking, and doing, and where he could find her? She gave him a stern look. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I was thinking how strange it's been to meet him again after all this time."

He was walking at a slower, more relaxed pace than her, and she automatically slowed down her own footsteps. The afternoon was nicely mild in temperature, and she swung her arms by her sides as she walked. "He was your senpai," Sawada said eventually. "That's what Fujiyama said."

"Yeah, that's right," she confirmed. "We went to Tokyo Met together. He used to tutor me sometimes, but we were good friends as well."

"Did you…" he seemed to be picking his words carefully, and he certainly wasn't looking at her, "did you ever date him?"

She stared at him. "_Date_ him? N-No, I didn't... Why do you ask?"

He still wouldn't meet her eyes. "Because… the way he looks at you makes me think that he _wants_ to date you."

Her heart was pounding. She couldn't understand why. Was it because of what Sawada was saying, or because _he_ was the one saying it? "I think you're wrong," she managed. "I mean, we only just met again today. And I'm sure he didn't feel that way when we were at university together."

But he persisted. "He _could_ have felt that way. He said that he applied here because of you, right?"

"Probably because he wanted to be around a familiar face." She felt confused, not really sure why she was trying so hard to find answers that she just didn't have. "Sawada – why is this important? Does any of it really matter?"

"_Yes_," he bit out forcefully. "It does matter. Because… Because Kuma is worried."

She blinked. "_Kuma_ is worried? Worried about what?"

"He said that maybe if you get married, you won't carry on teaching."

She was trying to work out what that small _pang_ was in her stomach. It felt like disappointment. She shook her head. None of it made any sense. "Of course I won't stop teaching if I get married, idiot." She elbowed him none too softly in his side. "But I'm not getting married anyway, so it's not really an issue."

"Yeah, you're right." Sawada seemed to be in a slightly better mood. "After all, who'd want to marry a weird person like you?"

"Hey!" She thumped him, hard, in the shoulder. "Treat your teachers with more respect. Aren't I teaching you guys _anything_?"

"You're teaching us how to fight, how to get into trouble, and how to get all puffed up and annoyed with authority figures." He smirked at her. "What? Don't you do all of those things?"

She glared at him. "And to think, I was considering asking if you wanted to come over for dinner." She could hardly miss the brief flicker of hope in his eyes before he carefully schooled his features. She let a few moments pass before she said, "Well – do you?"

He sounded unenthusiastic. "Got nothing better to do, I guess."

This time when she aimed her palm for the back of his head, he ducked, and she missed.

* * *

For the last week, Shin had been vaguely aware of rumours of a new teacher. He hadn't paid much attention because, truthfully, he just didn't care. There was one teacher he cared about far too much, so he felt that his indifference to the rest of them helped to achieve a natural balance.

In this case, that had obviously been a mistake.

He'd never felt sicker in his life than when he watched that _asshole_ walk up to her and insinuate himself into her personal space.

Shin was pretty good at handling surprises – even unpleasant ones. It was the main reason that the others respected him so much. Two and a half years ago he had walked into the classroom on the first day of term, dropped his bag carelessly at the side of his desk as he sat down, and gone to sleep. By the time he woke up, his fate as class leader had already been decided.

"It's because you're so unflappable," Kuma had told him later. "Someone needs to be."

Kuma was pretty sharp when he wanted to be, Shin thought.

But Kuma probably hadn't felt the urge to smash his desk to pieces when a new teacher arrived. Kuma's knuckles hadn't turned white as his fingers curled into fists. Kuma hadn't struggled to keep a lid on his hot-blooded rage until Yankumi's back was turned, and then slipped out of the room unnoticed, heading for the roof where he could be as furious as he liked.

School was supposed to be safe, he thought clumsily. Outside, she belonged to her family, to _that world_ – and previously, to Shinohara as well – but at school she spent her time with him. At school, he shared her only as a teacher, but the woman, the _real_ Yamaguchi Kumiko – the one who swore violently and drank men twice her size under the table – he shared with no-one.

And now, apparently, all that was going to change.

Interestingly, the others hadn't reacted well to the intruder either. He'd gone back to the classroom after lunch and found them all grumbling about 'the new guy'.

"His voice is annoying," Houjou muttered.

"Isn't he too smooth to be a high school teacher?" Uchi's nose wrinkled. "He could be a perv."

"Great, a perv in a high school," Matsudaira complained. "That's all we need."

Minami leaned back in his chair, his feet resting on the edge of the desk. "I don't think we're the ones he's interested in."

Shin sat down so forcefully he almost knocked his desk over. He was trying to keep the scowl off his face, but it didn't seem to be working.

Kuma twisted in his seat to look at him. "Shin, what do you think –"

But at that moment the door opened and Ando, who taught social studies and annoyed them all with his thin, reedy voice, edged into the room. "Good afternoon, class."

The start of a new lesson didn't normally stop anyone in 3-D carrying on with what they were doing, but Kuma held a particular hatred for Ando, who often confiscated his snacks. He turned away from Shin and glared suspiciously at Ando, completely forgetting what he'd been about to say.

And so Shin had survived the day without having to give his opinion on Maruyama.

When Yankumi had invited him over for dinner – and he'd allowed himself a few moments of smug satisfaction at the idea that while Maruyama had been rejected, _he_ was readily asked into her home – Shin had been worried that they would spend the entire evening talking about Maruyama.

To his surprise (and relief), the subject never even came up.

Instead, they celebrated the semi-promotion of Tetsu and Minoru, who spent most of the evening in tears, knocking back far too much sake and ultimately falling asleep at the table with Minoru's elbow smushed into Tetsu's cheek.

Yankumi, also pleasantly inebriated, instructed him to stay over and insisted on showing him to the guest room. Unfortunately, halfway along the corridor, the alcohol finally got the better of her and Shin ended up with her arm around his shoulder, his hand resting firmly on her waist. They went past the guest room and turned the corner, shuffling carefully up the stairs to Yankumi's room. "Sorry," she muttered as she stepped on his foot. "Shouldn'a had that last cup."

He laughed. "Yeah, I don't think you should have had those last _eight_ cups. But who's counting?"

"I can hold my alcohol just fine, _thank you_," she declared.

"Uh-huh." He aimed a gentle kick at her bedroom door, letting it swing open before he nudged her across the threshold. "Of course you can."

"Sawada," she muttered, "I think you're patronising me."

He kept a strong grip on her waist and detached her arm from his shoulders. "Can you stand on your own?"

"Of course!" she said indignantly. "I'm not _that_ drunk."

Skeptical, he raised an eyebrow. "All right," he replied, and reluctantly let her go.

To his surprise, she remained upright, her arms folded across her chest. "See?"

"Okay, I believe you." He kept an eye on her as he moved towards the door, waiting to see if she would topple over – but she merely tossed a smug look over her shoulder as she shuffled over to the bed. "Night," he murmured, slipping out of the door.

"Night, Sawada," he heard as he closed it behind him. "And don't you dare go back down there and let them give you any alcohol."

He grinned. Last he'd seen, Kyou and the others had been in a worse state than Yankumi. There was a good chance they'd passed out on the living room floor. He waited outside her room for a few moments, listening for the thump which would surely accompany her drunken collapse… but it never came.

He had to admit, he was a little disappointed. A sober Yankumi would almost certainly object to him wrapping his arms around her as he had done earlier.

The side of his body still felt warm where she'd been leaning against him. He stared down at his hand, remembering the way it had rested comfortably in the curve of her waist.

He'd decided a long time ago that he wanted Yankumi's attention. Then, not much later, he'd realised he wanted a lot more than that. The only thing that had changed today was that he now had a little competition.

Nothing he wasn't used to, after all.

The corner of his mouth twisted up as he heard Yankumi snoring softly. "You'd better show that guy the door soon," he murmured quietly. "Or I'll do it for you."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yes, Shin finally gets a chance to air his thoughts. Originally this wasn't going to happen for quite a while, but I realised that I needed to bring it forward a bit. Hope you're all enjoying what's left of the summer, and good luck to any British readers who are due to get their exam results tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I can't tell you how happy it makes me to open up my inbox and find your comments. This chapter is dedicated to **elebelly** – I hope you got the GCSE results you wanted! And anyone else out there who has been enduring the stresses of exams, let me know how they went.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

When she walked into the 3-D classroom the next day and yelled "Good morning!" over all the noise, she noticed that a number of the students seemed to be peering over her shoulder, as though they were expecting someone to follow her in.

"Maruyama-sensei won't be with us today," she told them. "He'll be with Nakano-sensei in the science labs, since he hasn't decided which subject he wants to teach yet."

"So we're stuck with just you, then, Yankumi?" said Uchi belligerently – although, in Kumiko's opinion, he looked somewhat brighter than he had done yesterday.

In fact, the whole class seemed to be in high spirits this morning. She was pleased, of course, but it made her wonder if – as Fujiyama-sensei had suggested – they hadn't liked Maruyama all that much. _It's just a matter of time,_ she reminded herself. "Yes, you are _stuck_ with me, ungrateful brats. You know, one day you'll thank me for the time I've dedicated to you."

"Nah, we'd rather have a free period," Minami declared.

"Not going to happen," she shot back quickly. "Ask me for a maths test instead."

"'Not going to happen'," he repeated mockingly, but the smirk on his face was friendly.

She rolled her eyes. "All right, pay attention, because today we're covering material that will _definitely_ be on the exams. So don't say I didn't warn you."

Naturally, their definition of 'pay attention' differed hugely from her own, but it wasn't as though she wasn't used to it. Having said that, although they were messing around at the start, they began to settle as time went on, and she had a pleasant surprise halfway through the lesson when she turned around and found that they were actually _concentrating on what she was saying._

It was a good class, she decided when the bell rang. She glanced at them as she left, and felt her heart swell with pride. _Such good kids. I think I got the best ones in the whole school._

It put her in a good mood for the rest of the day. The other teachers had commented on it, but scoffed derisively when she'd explained that 3-D was the source of her positive attitude. Even Maruyama had seemed sceptical, but she'd brushed it off with a smile.

At the end of the day she breezed cheerfully into 3-D's classroom, called the attendance register with gusto, and was even able to grin happily when Noda suggested that she had taken drugs by accident. "This, my precious students," she announced, "is what is called 'job satisfaction'. Accept nothing less in life!"

She was busy ignoring mutterings of "weirdo" and "strange woman" when there was a soft knock at the door, and it opened to reveal Maruyama on the other side. "Hi," he greeted her. "Are you done for the day?"

She pretended to consider it. "Hmm, am I done taking abuse from my ungrateful students? Yeah, I think so." She rolled her eyes at the class. "To think, I've been singing your praises all day, and what do I get in return? Insults!"

"But you _are_ weird," Minami told her. "That's not an insult, it's just a fact."

She huffed petulantly, and stuffed her papers into her bag. "I'll remember that 'fact' the next time you call me from the police station at two in the morning." She stood and turned to Maruyama. "Okay, I just need to stop by the faculty room to drop the register off, and then I'm ready."

"Great." He clapped his hands together. "You want to go for okonomiyaki? I found a great place yesterday on my way home."

"Sure." As she shouldered her bag, her stomach growled loudly. She laughed and patted it. "Perfect timing, huh?"

Maruyama waved at 3-D as she ducked past him through the doorway. "See you tomorrow, class. Your teacher needs to be fed, or she'll turn nasty."

"Oi." Kumiko smacked him on the arm. She stuck her head back into the classroom to say goodbye, and was surprised to find them all still sitting in their seats. They were watching her, a sullen expression on every face. "Hey, you know you can go home, right?" she teased. "See you tomorrow!"

But their gloomy faces stayed in her mind as she walked away, and even until sometime later that evening, when she was adding a layer of noodles to her okonomiyaki and Maruyama was shaking his head sadly.

She wondered what had happened to bring about such a sudden downturn in their mood. They'd been so bright and chirpy at first, and then the atmosphere had become so morose. She wondered if they were having problems – a fight with students from another school, perhaps, or maybe someone was having family trouble and they just weren't telling her about it.

She clenched her fists, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown. When were they going to _learn_? She was their teacher; they were supposed to tell her this kind of stuff so that she could help them deal with it. Keeping it a secret helped nobody –

Maruyama snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Yamaguchi-sensei! Are you all right?"

She blinked, tuning back into the here and now. Abruptly, she realised that her food was burning, and she hurried to move it off the grill. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just… thinking."

He sat forward, a sympathetic expression on his face. "If you need to talk about it…"

A small smile tugged at her lips. It was nice to have Maruyama around again – to have a friend who would listen to her little worries. She loved her family, but their approach to her problems wasn't always… _appropriate._ "To tell the truth," she began, "it's about 3-D. I mean, they were fine for most of the day, and then –" She broke off as she realised that he now looked less sympathetic and more exasperated. "What?"

"Yamaguchi-sensei…" His mouth twisted thoughtfully. "You worry about them an awful lot. They're just kids, they're fine! You shouldn't have to think of them outside school as well."

"But I do!" she argued. "No-one else will – sometimes even their own families don't seem to care. My job is to look after them."

"But you can't be at their beck and call twenty-four hours a day," he countered. "They need to learn to look after themselves as well. And you need to be able to have some time to yourself."

She sighed. It wasn't that she couldn't see where he was coming from; she _could_. But she couldn't agree with everything that he said. "You're right – they do need to look after themselves. But they can't do that without someone helping them on the way. Sooner or later they'll get to the point where they don't need me. But right now, they still need a lot of help. That's what I'm there for. Besides…" her lips twitched, "you know me. Even if they were fully grown men, I'd still worry."

He grinned at her. "They're lucky kids, having you for a teacher."

She laughed as she cut her pancake up, carving out the burnt bits. "Yeah, now if we can just get _them_ to realise that…"

After that, he didn't raise the issue again, and instead tried to distract her by recalling memories of their classmates at university. But her mind insisted on wandering to her students, until finally she resolved to sort things out once and for all. The best way to do that, she had learnt, was to first talk to Sawada Shin.

* * *

3-D had hoped that Wednesday would be another Maruyama-free day, but they weren't so lucky. The period before lunch saw him leaning casually against the wall while Yankumi drew triangles on the board. "I know you all hate trigonometry," she was saying, "but it has to be done. So just grit your teeth and take it like men, okay?"

They whined unhappily; however, since this was a marked improvement on how they would have reacted when she first arrived – i.e. by walking out of the classroom – she let it slide.

"So," said Maruyama suddenly, "the name 'Yankumi', then. Where did that come from?"

Yankumi made a pleased sound. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "_They_ thought of it." With one arm stretched to reach the top of the board, she half-twisted to look at them. "It was the first present they ever gave me." Her smile became a scowl. "And the last. Fujiyama gets presents from her class every other day." She sniffed and turned back to the board. "Not that I care, or anything. At all."

"When you're as sexy as Fujiyama then you'll get presents from us," Noda told her. "That is… if you even know what sexy _is._"

Yankumi swivelled on the spot indignantly, hands on her hips, ready to defend herself. But Maruyama got there first.

"Yamaguchi-sensei can really pull out all the stops when she wants to, you know." He laughed, half-drifting into reverie. "She used to complain about getting dressed up when we were at university, but she still managed it pretty well." He raised an eyebrow at the class. "I've got photos. Shall I bring in the albums for you to see?"

Yankumi cleared her throat loudly, and in turning to look at her, Maruyama missed the expressions of irritation and disgust on many faces in the class. "Sure, bring the albums in," she said kindly. "Bring them in so I can _burn_ them, and then kill _you_. Not necessarily in that order, either."

"Hmm…" He pretended to think about it. "It could be worth it. I'm pretty sure I've got a photo of you from that Halloween party, the one where you wore –"

"Oh, _God,_" she intoned, sounding horrified. "That's it. I'm killing you now. Class, avert your eyes."

Maruyama held up his hands in a mock attempt at self-defence. "Okay, let's not be too hasty, Kumiko-san. I haven't committed the crime yet."

She cracked her knuckles, advancing on him dangerously. "I think in this case it would be justified. No court would convict me."

Shin, who had briefly lapsed into deep thought as he tried to imagine what she could possibly have worn that would be so embarrassing, snapped back to attention. While he wouldn't mind seeing Maruyama – a guy who'd made it pretty clear that he wanted to do less-than-professional things to their teacher – die a horrible death, he'd rather that Yankumi didn't actually _touch_ the guy.

"Oi," he said in a voice that carried across the classroom. "Can you kill him later? Aren't you supposed to be teaching us?"

Yankumi turned, and gave him a look that Shin liked to think she reserved especially for him – exasperation mixed with amusement, fondness, and maybe even a little curiosity. "Murder versus education?" She put her hands on her hips. "I guess I ought to stick to legal activities for now." She jabbed a stern finger in Shin's direction. "But I'll kill _you_ as well if he brings those photos in."

He smirked coolly. "You're welcome to try."

The small smile he caught on her face as she turned back towards the board suggested that she was a little bit proud of him.

Maruyama was looking between the two of them as though he was struggling to understand what had just gone on. Shin met his stare defiantly, and almost snorted with disgust when Maruyama flinched and looked away.

Then he appeared to dismiss Shin altogether, turning to focus on Yankumi.

_Mistake,_ Shin thought irritably. _First rule of any battle – don't turn your back on your enemy. Even a little kid knows that._

But then, Maruyama probably didn't even know there _was_ a battle – which was his second mistake.

It was no skin off Shin's nose if Maruyama underestimated him; in fact, it would probably make his life a lot easier. What was _really_ annoying him at this point was that Yankumi herself hadn't realised that either of them were interested in her.

And when she did eventually get a clue, Maruyama would be leagues ahead of Shin; Yankumi might be able to deal with a colleague who was in love with her, but one of her younger students?

She would freak out.

* * *

P.E. had traditionally been one of 3-D's favourite periods – not because they had any great desire to actually participate in any of the sports on offer, but because it gave them an excuse to go and sit on their asses in the sun for an hour or so while they watched all the other suckers running around on the field. No-one had dared to try and force them to participate, not since that incident two years ago when Baba-sensei had been left tied to a goalpost – upside down – for a whole afternoon.

After that, 3-D had been allocated an area of the field just for them; they didn't bother the other students, and the other students didn't bother 3-D. It was a very peaceful and convenient arrangement.

But today, just as they had settled down for some quality time slacking off, something caught their attention.

Some distance away, Maruyama and Yankumi were walking slowly across the field carrying sports equipment and talking.

"Aw, man," Uchi complained. "Do we have to put up with him out here, too?"

Shin watched intently as Yankumi nodded to where Baba-sensei stood with the football team. He waved and approached her and Maruyama, appearing to thank them for bringing the equipment. He gestured to the spot where they stood, and turned to go back to the other boys. Yankumi put down the armful of short metal poles she was carrying; Maruyama had hold of a bag of footballs, and small plastic cones. He dumped them both on the ground, then reached into the bag and pulled out a football, bouncing it on his knee.

They heard Yankumi laugh and say something that sounded sarcastic.

Maruyama let the ball land on the grass, and kicked it idly towards her. She caught it with her foot and they kicked it back and forth between them for a few minutes.

Then Maruyama said something, grinning mockingly at her. She put her hands on her hips, issuing a retort.

Maruyama took a few steps closer to her; Shin, still watching them like a hawk, braced his arms against the ground and felt the muscles in his legs become tense as he prepared to spring to his feet if Maruyama got even one inch closer to Yankumi…

Then, in a sudden blur of movement, Yankumi took off at a run, kicking the ball ahead of her. Maruyama gave chase, but she was already too far in front and aimed a successful kick into the back of the net. She punched the air with both fists, smirking triumphantly at Maruyama when he eventually arrived.

He was sulking, his arms folded across his chest, and from the petulant tone of his voice, he was apparently complaining that she had been unfair. The occasional twitch of his lips gave his amusement away.

Yankumi's smug grin was fixed in place, however, and she merely shrugged as if to say 'what am I supposed to do about it?'

Then she spotted _them_, and the grin fell away to be replaced with a stern look. She began marching swiftly in their direction, followed closely by Maruyama.

"Uh-oh," Minami muttered under his breath. "Is it too late to run away?"

"Looks that way," was Shin's only reply as he stared fixedly at their teacher. In truth, he didn't mind being yelled at if it distracted Yankumi from Maruyama. Really, that guy was getting more and more annoying every day.

"Are you guys slacking off?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, coming to a halt in front of where they were sprawled on the grass.

"Yeah," said Uchi belligerently. "What's wrong with that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly – twenty-six young, healthy men can't even get off their asses once in a while? You're in the prime of your lives! Some day in the future, when you're all old and decrepit, you'll wish you'd taken these opportunities when you were able to."

"Oi, what about you, Yankumi?" Kuma asked, idly pulling blades of grass out of the ground. "Don't you have a class you should be teaching instead of playing around out here?" His eyes flicked briefly in Maruyama's direction.

"Nope," she grinned. "Got a free period. Baba-sensei asked Maruyama-sensei and I to bring the equipment out – plus, it's kind of nice to be outside. You should take advantage of the time you have," she said pointedly. "Stop being so damn lazy and play some football, would you?"

"We'd only scare them," Shin pointed out, nodding at the football team who kept glancing across at 3-D nervously.

"Then play as one class," she suggested.

They still did not look keen.

"I'll be the referee," Maruyama offered brightly. "I used to be on the football team at university – Yamaguchi-sensei will tell you."

She folded her arms and squinted up at him. "You were on the bench for the whole season!"

"But I was still on the team," he persisted.

"In any case, you're supposed to be using this time to do your lesson plans," she told him.

His face crumpled miserably. "But I don't _want_ to, Yamaguchi-sensei," he whined, sounding like a little boy complaining about homework.

She sighed, exasperated. "Well, like it or not, you have to. Come on." She began the walk back to the main school building, tossing a look back over her shoulder at the boys on the grass. "At least walk, or run, or _something_ if you're not going to do any real exercise, okay?"

"Sure thing, Yankumi," Uchi lied easily.

She gave them a fond smile, knowing that they never would. Once again, Maruyama trailed after her.

"'I'll be the referee'," Noda mocked, once the pair were out of earshot. "Give me a break."

Shin couldn't help but agree.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** The trouble with Gokusen is that it gives me unrealistic expectations of what it might be like to teach at a high school. I don't think, for example, that a high school class would react all that well if I (as their teacher) went and beat up their enemies. Rather, I imagine that they would regard me as a psychotic freak who might snap on any given day and kill them all. Good job I don't plan on teaching high school, I guess.

On a separate note: please review!


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Okay, so for a long time I have been avoiding writing any actual mathematics content in this story on account of the fact that I would actually have to _remember_ what we were taught at school. It was tough, but I did it for you guys. Unfortunately, it's difficult to write mathematical equations as part of prose, so they look a little weird. (Sorry this is late, by the way! I wanted to upload yesterday but it was all a bit mad at my house. Also, thank you all for your wonderful reviews!)

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Thursday was blessedly Maruyama-free, and the sigh of relief that was audible in the classroom when Yankumi arrived alone was echoed heartily by Shin. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to stay passive while Maruyama flirted unreservedly with their teacher.

They could tell that she was pleased by their good mood. She tossed her bag onto the floor, and folded her arms across her chest, smiling enigmatically at them.

When a few moments passed and a textbook did not appear, they began to grow suspicious. "Oi, Yankumi," said Noda. "Are you teaching us, or what?"

She hummed happily. "Oh, yes. But you'll need to push your desks back first."

They stared at her, nonplussed.

"Well, go on," she pressed. "We don't have all day."

Slowly, they rose, and did as she said, lining up their desks at the sides of the room, and stacking their chairs on top of each other. Then they were left standing uselessly in the middle of an empty classroom. "Now what?" Uchi wondered out loud.

Yankumi produced a tennis ball from within the drawer of her desk. "We're going to play a game," she announced, and at once they all groaned heavily. "Hey, what's this?" she demanded. "I'm trying to _help_ you, here. This is going to be fun, okay?"

"Yankumiiii," Noda whined. "Can't we just sit down?"

"No," she snapped. "You're going to damn well play this game, and you're going to like it! So shut up and cooperate."

The grumbling ceased, and she smiled, satisfied. "The rules are simple," she said. "You all stand in a circle and pass the ball to the person next to you. Each person has to answer a question while they've got the ball. You get the question right, you can invent a new rule."

There was a pause as they digested this information.

"What do you mean, 'a new rule'?" Uchi asked.

She tossed the ball from hand to hand as she spoke. "Well, for example, you could invent a rule that says that people have to pass to the second person down the line instead of the person next to them, or that they have to throw the ball in the air and catch it a number of times before they pass it on. That kind of thing."

They stared at her. Minami asked the question that seemed to be on everyone's mind: "_Why?_"

She grinned. "For fun! And to help you consolidate the things you've learned by getting you to put them into practice on the spot." The grin became a little wicked. "Plus, I get to watch you try to remember all the different rules once the game gets going."

Shin rolled his eyes. _Of course_ she would come up with something like this. But there was no way the others would go along with it –

"Okay," Noda shrugged. "So, we stand in a circle?"

Shin's mouth fell open as he watched the others arrange themselves as Yankumi directed. Things must be worse than he'd previously suspected if they were _that_ cooperative. It wasn't too long ago that they would have fought tooth and nail against this kind of thing.

"Sawada," she said brightly. "Come stand here. You can start."

He made a face at her, and she stuck out her tongue in retaliation. _Childish,_ he thought… but it took a good deal of restraint not to stare at her mouth.

He cleared his throat and looked away. "Fine." He held out his hand for the tennis ball, and tried to ignore the leaping sensation in his chest as her fingers brushed his.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! Okay, Sawada, your question is: y squared minus seven y. Factorise, please."

He hardly needed to think about it. "Y brackets y minus seven."

She sighed. "Sometimes your brain scares me. You're supposed to take _longer_ to work it out!"

He smirked. "I can't help it if I'm smart."

"Yeah…" she muttered, her mouth scrunching up in a way he found horribly endearing. "A smartass brat, more like it. Invent your new damn rule, already."

He shrugged. "I don't know – pass to the third person down?"

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You're just stealing _my_ rule from earlier, but I'll let it go. This once. The rest of you better be more imaginative, you hear?"

An assortment of grunts and half-coherent words was all she got in reply.

Shin tossed the ball to the third person down the line – Kuma, who looked at it as though it were growing a nasty-looking fungus. "Yankumi," he began hesitantly. "What happens if we get a question wrong?"

She smiled kindly. "I beat the crap out of you, of course."

Kuma blanched, and swallowed nervously.

"Kidding," she clarified. "Relax, you guys, it's supposed to be fun."

However, they didn't loosen up until the sixth person in a row had got a question wrong and _not_ been severely punished for it. By that point, Yankumi was writing the equations on the board instead of reading them out loud, and if anyone didn't know the answer she would go through it, writing each line and explaining it until she was sure that they understood what she was talking about.

Much as Shin hated to admit it… this was a _little_ bit fun. For one thing, the rules were becoming more and more bizarre as time went on. Sainei had invented one that stated that people had to do an impression of an animal of their choice before they passed the ball. Chikamatsu had decided that everyone had to recite a haiku while hopping on one leg. And then Uchi, who was tired of trying to remember everything, decreed that all previous rules were null and void. This had led to a mixture of cheers of agreement, and bitter complaining, and the class had been split down the middle depending on their point of view.

Finally Yankumi had leapt into the fray and hit them all violently on the head, one after another, and told them to shut up.

Towards the end of the class, she had given up asking maths questions and had turned it into a 'how long can we throw the ball to each other without dropping it?' competition.

Shin refused to play, and was sitting on top of his desk watching Noda and Maeda argue about whether bouncing the ball off the lockers counted as dropping it, when a desk was pushed up alongside his, and Yankumi made herself comfortable next to him.

"You know," she began conversationally, "I _was_ going to ask you about these guys being moody, but looking at them now, I guess it's not necessary."

He thought about this for a few moments. "Moody?" he repeated. Could she be talking about what he _thought_ she was talking about?

"Yeah." She leaned back, her palms flat against the desk behind her. "It seems like these past few days… I don't know, they haven't been themselves. I was going to ask if you knew why, but they've improved, don't you think?"

So, she wasn't quite as dense as he'd thought. But she still hadn't picked up on the link between Maruyama and the atmosphere in 3-D. He wished fervently that she would – and soon. This first week felt like it was dragging on forever – and Maruyama was going to be with them for the rest of the _year_. Shin didn't think he'd be able to cope with this for much longer.

"They're having fun," he said at last. "It's kind of like old times, isn't it?"

"'Like old times,'" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" He grasped for the right words. "Like how it used to be. You and us."

She blinked. "But – it's always that way. Isn't it?"

"Not anymore." The bell rang, and he hopped down from the desk, grateful to have an excuse to change the subject. "Guess we'd better put the desks back, huh?"

"What? Oh… yeah…"

She was distracted. _He'd_ distracted her. He was glad – maybe now she'd start to put it all together.

He left her to think for a while, helping the others to put the room back the way it was, and eventually the only desk left against the wall was the one she was sitting on. He sidled up to her and dug his elbow into her ribs. "Oi. Kuma wants his desk back."

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." She slid down, and allowed Kuma to collect his desk.

She was still half-lost in thought, and it was probably her small, confused expression that prompted him to ask, "Why did you want to ask _me_ about it?" She blinked, and he elaborated. "You said you wanted to ask me why they were moody. Why me?"

"Oh." She seemed surprised. "Because I always ask you when I don't know these things. You're the one who knows." She grinned. "You're my 'go-to' guy."

Shin did not have the faintest clue why this fact both pleased and irritated him.

* * *

On Friday, Maruyama was back. And this time, he had brought the photo.

He produced it from his jacket pocket during a quiet spell, when the class was busy doing work set by Yankumi, and handed it over to her without bothering to hide what he was doing.

"I dug it out last night," he said. "You can burn it if you like. Or add it to your scrapbook."

One of 3-D's unofficial class policies was that as soon as something more interesting started happening in the room, all academic efforts were abandoned and their attentions re-focused on whomever or whatever was taking centre stage.

In this case, Maruyama and Yankumi.

She took the photo gingerly, as if it were a piece of rotting fruit. "Yeah. That'd be the scrapbook called 'things I never want to think about in my whole life ever again'." She put it in the pocket on the inside of her jacket. "How did you even get hold of it in the first place? I don't remember you having a camera that night…" An unpleasant smirk tugged her lips upwards. "In fact, you were otherwise _detained_ for most of that evening, if I recall."

Maruyama's shoulders slumped. "That was _not_ my fault. It was an honest mistake."

"Uh-huh." She grinned, leaning back in her chair and pretending to inspect her fingernails. "Sure it was." Abruptly, her eyes darted up to concentrate on her students. "Oi. Are you guys working or what?"

Twenty-five heads quickly bent down to their desks. Sawada Shin, however, continued to stare defiantly at the two of them. He met Yankumi's firm gaze, and raised an eyebrow.

She frowned, and jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the board where she'd written the instructions for their class work. Her head tilted to one side, asking a silent question.

Shin held up his completed answer sheet in reply.

She rolled her eyes, and pushed herself up from her seat, making her way through the gaps between the desks to the back of the class. "Give it here," she murmured, leaning over him and holding out a hand for the sheet. "I'm going to start setting tougher work for you. Your ego's going to swell up if you keep breezing through questions like these." She glanced at him. "You really should be in 3-A, you know."

He glared at her. "Well, I don't _want_ to be there, so don't go interfering, okay?"

She seemed surprised by his vehemence. "I wasn't going to. I was just saying –"

"I know what you were 'just saying'," he hissed, "but I want to be in _this_ class."

A soft smile played around her mouth. "You really do, huh?"

He slouched in his seat, scowling. "Yeah," he muttered reluctantly.

Her forearm came to rest on his shoulder as she bent down next to him. "That's because you've got a really great teacher like me, right?"

He pulled away, dislodging her arm and making her half-stumble forward. "_No._ It's because this classroom's the nicest. And Kuma's in this class."

She glowered at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Fine, be that way. You know, you don't appreciate me now, but some day in the future you'll look back on your time here and realise how lucky you were to have a teacher like me."

_Idiot,_ he thought as she walked away. _You don't really get it, do you?_

He was interested in that photo, though. What could she possibly have been wearing to make her so embarrassed? The brief idea of 'nothing' fluttered through his mind, but he immediately dismissed it, forcing himself to concentrate on other – less dangerous – thoughts.

However, the subject came back to haunt him later on that day, when he went up to the roof for a nap and accidentally slept through the rest of the afternoon, missing homeroom and consequently putting Yankumi on the warpath.

He woke up when the door creaked open and she sighed loudly. "_Here_ you are. Of course. I don't know why I wasted my time worrying about you being in the hospital, or lying dead somewhere. You're _always_ here. It's a wonder you attend any classes at all." She put her hands on her hips. "Why don't you just sleep at home?"

He sat up and stretched lazily. "Because nothing makes me sleepy like being at school. Besides, you just saw me a few hours ago – why would I have been lying dead somewhere?"

"The amount of trouble you guys get into, _anything_ can happen in a few hours." She slouched over to the metal railings, leaning against them and squinting into the sunlight. "You better go. I think Kuma's waiting for you."

Instead of leaving, however, he joined her, not caring that his arm brushed hers or that, at this proximity, he could smell her shampoo.

"So," he began, abandoning subtlety. "Let me see that photo, then."

She turned to gape at him, her hand flying automatically to her jacket pocket. "W-What? No! Why the hell would I agree to that?"

He shrugged. "It's not like I'm going to tell anyone else about it. I'm just curious."

She huffed and folded her arms, squaring her shoulders. "You're not seeing it."

"Fine." He changed tack abruptly, taking a moment to enjoy the shocked silence. "Tell me about Maruyama, then. What happened to _him_ that Halloween?"

She glared at him. "You're awfully inquisitive today, Sawada. What's going on?"

"I'm just trying to find out more about my great teacher," he replied casually. "Since, you know, I don't want to look back and regret not taking this opportunity."

She was silent for a little while. He wondered if he had somehow offended her, and he was just about to tell her to forget it when she said quietly, "He got arrested."

"Huh?"

"Maruyama-sensei." She looked up at him, her lips twitching with amusement. "The night of the Halloween party, he… his friend asked him to pick up his girlfriend on the way to the party, so he drove over to that address and picked up a woman standing outside. Only, it turned out she wasn't Kazama-san's girlfriend at all – she was a prostitute. The police pulled him over, and he got arrested." Her face split into a grin. "He spent most of that night in a police cell until I came to get him. He was never charged, of course, but obviously it was still pretty embarrassing."

"I'm sure." Shin filed that piece of information away for a later date. "You don't strike me as the Halloween party type."

"I lost a bet," she muttered grumpily. "That's how I ended up wearing the – uhm. Never mind."

"It can't be _that_ bad," he pushed. "What was it – a vampire? A ghost?"

She mumbled something under her breath that he couldn't catch.

"What?" He leaned closer.

"I said, it wasn't scary." She stared down at the yard below. "My outfit, I mean."

"Oh." He thought about this. "So, you dressed up like Sailor Moon or something?"

She rolled her eyes. "If it was just cosplay, I wouldn't care so much about you seeing it."

"Don't you trust me?" He summoned up all of his acting prowess to play on her weakness – a guilty conscience. He made his voice sound hurt and disappointed as he said, "I'd never betray your confidence. I thought you knew that."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her bite her lip anxiously, looking conflicted. After a few seconds, her hand strayed towards her pocket. She pulled the photo out, stuffed it into his hands, and walked away, putting a considerable distance between them.

Shin took one look at the photo and slumped heavily over the railings, shoulders shaking violently.

Yankumi made a disgusted sound in her throat and stalked back over to him, her shoes smacking angrily against the concrete. She reached over his shoulder and whipped the photo out of his grip. "Laugh all you want," she snapped, "but tell anyone and I will hurt you _badly,_ understand?"

He nodded, and waited until she had gone before fumbling in his pockets for a tissue. His shoulders had not been shaking with laughter, as she had assumed, but because he'd been using unsteady hands to stem the sudden and copious flow of blood from his nose.

It had been a goddamn nurse's outfit.

A tight, white cotton blouse and a skirt which exposed more of her legs than he'd ever seen before. Her small breasts had been shoved up and squashed together, most likely with the aid of some fairly inventive underwear, and there were far too many buttons undone on her blouse. She was glaring at the photographer, one hand reaching up to tug the starched cap off her head, the other holding a shiny red lollipop loosely.

Involuntarily, he imagined her rolling that lollipop around her mouth, her lips sliding over it – and cursed as the blood flow became even heavier.

He was in so much trouble.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Out of curiosity, when you visit the Gokusen section of FFNet, how many of you set the ratings filter to ignore the 'M' rated stories? I ask because there is likely to be some strong language coming up in future chapters (there nearly was in this chapter, but I changed it) and I'll probably need to increase the rating. I just want to know how many people might be affected by that.

Please keep your reviews coming!


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** This chapter is a bit longer than usual – in fact, they seem to be getting longer every time. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far – it really gives me a thrill to open my inbox and read what you've been saying. The general consensus about the 'M rating' issue seems to be that most people change their filters anyway, so you should still see when it's been updated. I will try to tell you when I'm going to change it a chapter in advance.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

It was not unusual for Maruyama to invite Kumiko to do something after school – usually to go and have dinner at a nearby restaurant, or just go for a walk through the park. She enjoyed spending time with him; their conversations were always long and spirited, and hopped rapidly from one topic to another.

Very occasionally, she would feel that very faint spark of attraction flickering into life, but thankfully it would always pass away and leave her in peace. She was happy with their friendship. As much as she'd liked him back at university, she didn't want things to go any further than that. What they had now was good, and real, and reliable.

Just thinking about it made her glad that she'd never confessed her feelings all those years ago. He would certainly have rejected her, she would have felt humiliated, and most likely their friendship would have deteriorated and died soon after. Keeping her silence had been a long and difficult struggle, but it had preserved their relationship; her restraint had paid off. She'd not only spared herself the mortification of rejection, but also been able to avoid putting poor Maruyama in an awkward position.

To Maruyama, she had first been the friend of a friend, and then _his_ friend – that had been all. His feelings for her had always been purely platonic.

And that was what she'd always believed.

Until one afternoon during his second week at Shirokin…

* * *

She was doing the register one afternoon, a handful of confiscated dirty magazines tucked under one arm as she ignored Minami and Mouri's bitter complaints, when her attention was caught by a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. A hand, holding two pale pieces of card, had appeared from the edge of the doorway."Hmm," she said loudly. "Floating paper. Maybe this is the famous Shirokin poltergeist?"

A distinctly male laugh echoed in the empty corridor.

"A _talking_ poltergeist," she added. "Is anyone here trained to perform exorcisms?"

"I know a guy," said Horibe from the middle of the class.

She did a double take. "Interesting," she muttered under her breath.

The hand slipped inside the classroom, followed by an arm, a shoulder, and finally Maruyama's head. "Ah, it's just you," she said, as if this hadn't been obvious.

He waved the paper at her. "Tickets," he told her, raising his eyebrows significantly.

She waited. "And," she said eventually, when it became clear that he wasn't going to give out any more information, "what are the tickets _for_?"

He looked half-horrified, half-amused. "What _for?_" he repeated. "The latest Kitano Takeshi film, what else?"

If she had appeared composed before, that illusion was lost now. She shot to her feet, nearly tipping her chair backwards. "That's _out_ already?! I thought it wasn't until next week!"

He winked. "Special screening. Tonight only, _very_ fancy."

She grabbed her bag. "Do I want to know what you had to do to get tickets for that?"

He shrugged. "I have a friend who has a friend. Anyway – you're coming, right?"

"Of course!"She turned to wave goodbye on her way out of the room, but her excited smile faltered when she saw how annoyed they all looked. They were casting bitter, frustrated glances at her, as though she had just let them down badly. "See you tomorrow," she said, as brightly as she could manage, forcing herself to walk away.

Their bad mood had come back. She could already feel her anxiety forming a knot in the pit of her stomach – when they were like this, she couldn't help but worry. Especially as their mood seemed to be linked to the man walking next to her.

So, they didn't like him. She'd begun to suspect it last week, when Shin had mentioned something. And now she'd had her confirmation – every time Maruyama showed up, the atmosphere became distinctly darker and more discontented.

She knew what she had to do. It was her job, after all, as their teacher to make sure that they were happy and well looked after. In this case, she was going to have to help them to realise what a good teacher Maruyama could be, if they would just accept him. And if that meant forcing them together at every available opportunity, then that was what she would do.

* * *

Shin, Uchi, Minami, Noda and Kuma went out for ramen that evening. There had been a definite drop in the general mood at the end of the day, and they were all reluctant to acknowledge why.

Fortunately, Kuma had a tendency to say what everyone was thinking without worrying too much about how it reflected on him. "That Maruyama guy bugs me," he confessed when they were all sitting around the table nursing their (non-alcoholic) drinks. "I don't know why – he just _does_."

As usual, once one person had said it, the rest of them felt that they had permission to agree.

"He's _annoying_," Uchi muttered.

"It's not like he does much teaching," Minami said, running a hand through his hair. "Just kind of… stands there, watching Yan –" He broke off abruptly, looking embarrassed.

Kuma, immune to embarrassment, picked up on this train of thought. "Yeah, he keeps hitting on her, have you guys noticed?"

Noda snorted. "I think _she's_ the only one who hasn't noticed. For someone who's good at maths, she's kind of dense, isn't she?"

"Tell me about it," Uchi laughed. "He always sticks so close to her – you'd think she'd realise _why_."

Minami turned to look at the person sitting next to him. "Shin, you're quiet. What do you think about this guy?"

Shin was staring into his bowl, playing with his food but not eating. His expression, as usual, was impassive, but there was something noticeably tight and uncomfortable about his voice when he spoke. "I think," he said, his eyes still down, "that I don't like him. And I'm not sure I trust him around Yankumi."

They were all silent for a few moments, mulling this over. "I agree," said Kuma eventually.

"But he's gonna be with us for the rest of the year," said Noda. "It's not like we can get rid of him."

"Unless he slips up," Uchi suggested. "Everyone has their secrets, right?"

"I think we're stuck with him," Shin muttered, finally pushing his untouched bowl away. "But the important thing is to keep him away from Yankumi. He seems pushy – he might go too far one day."

They all understood the implication of this. "So," Uchi leant forward over the table, "what's the plan?"

* * *

There were a number of things that Shin thought about as he was walking home that night. One of them was that he hadn't been entirely honest with his friends, although he couldn't honestly say he felt too guilty about that. There were bigger things at stake.

He hadn't been honest, for example, in leading them to believe that their teacher might be in some kind of danger from Maruyama. The idea of Yankumi being in danger was fairly laughable – it was others who were more likely to be at risk from her. Even if Maruyama _did_ get too forceful with his 'affections' (and the thought made Shin's hands curl into fists), Yankumi would have no trouble fighting him off at all.

He'd also gone along with the idea that Maruyama's feelings were one-sided. If he'd been truthful, though, he would have had to say that there _was_ a chance that Yankumi had feelings for Maruyama as well.

It pissed him off.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. He'd just wanted more _time_, was that so much to ask? Just a bit longer, until he'd graduated, and he could start to pursue her as a man instead of a student.

Only now, he had competition. The kind of competition who could romance her freely, who wouldn't have a second thought about taking her away and making her his own. Whereas he, Shin, was _stuck_ at a lower level of existence which made that kind of thing impossible. All he could do was watch.

If he could hold this guy off for a little longer – get in his way, trip him up a few times – he might be able to get through the year and finally be able to stand up as an equal competitor.

He just needed more time.

* * *

Kumiko was wearing a skirt. She _hated_ skirts.

But Maruyama had been very clear that this was a fancy event and that there would be a lot of social mingling before and after the film. He was going to wear a suit, he'd said.

Her first thought had, of course, been the kimono, but if _certain_ _parties_ were to be believed, it would be a bad idea.

She didn't own dresses at all – she found them to be impractical and restrictive, and who needed either of those qualities if there was a chance you could get into a fight?

Her only concession to feminine clothing came in the form of three skirts. At least with a skirt she could wear shorts underneath, and just take the damn thing off if she needed to move more freely. She also had a number of tops and blouses which Fujiyama-sensei had called 'barely passable' – considering what she'd said about the rest of Kumiko's wardrobe, this meant that they must be the height of fashion and beauty.

She'd agreed to meet Maruyama at the cinema – when she arrived, he was lurking outside looking a little nervous.

"Relax," she said as she approached him – and naturally he jumped about three feet into the air. "It's just a film, right? What can go wrong?"

He gave her a stare which suggested that she had missed the point. Then he did a double take as he looked her over. "Ah, you look really nice."

She felt a blush rising in her cheeks. "Thank you."

He offered her his arm, and they went inside.

It was obvious that the building had once been an old-style theatre which had since been converted to house modern big screens. It had retained the beautiful architecture – the high ceilings and tall columns that must have been inspired by old European designs.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Maruyama, his voice close to her ear. His breath brushed her cheek and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, her nerves tingling pleasantly. Kumiko murmured a brief reply, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She wasn't used to being so close to a man (other than in a fight, of course). It had been a very long time since her last _proper_ date.

_Not,_ she reminded herself hurriedly, _that this is a date_.

But Sawada's words rang clearly in her mind: _"The way he looks at you makes me think that he wants to date you."_

She glanced up at Maruyama. How had he been looking at her? She hadn't noticed anything.

Maruyama's friend of a friend must have been _very_ well connected, it turned out, because they had front row seats. Kumiko's heart was pounding as they sank into the plush velvet and made themselves comfortable.

"This is _amazing_," she whispered to Maruyama, unable to hide her excitement.

He gave her an amused look. "You're such a simple person."

"Hey," she protested. "I'm not – "

"I _mean_," he went on, talking over her offended sputtering, "that whereas it takes expensive jewellery or a fancy car to impress some women, you'd prefer a good seat for a film. It's a good thing."

She was quiet for a little while. She liked the hush of a theatre before the production started – everyone gathered together in one room, waiting for something good to happen.

The lights went down.

Maruyama leaned over, his mouth right next to her ear. "Did you know that I liked you when we were at university together?"

"W-What?!"

* * *

By the Wednesday morning, everyone in the class had been informed of the plan devised by Shin and the others the previous evening. It was extremely simplistic, but would hopefully be effective.

One of Yankumi's preferred methods of teaching was to set a batch of problems to be completed in class. It served a dual purpose – first, to make sure they actually did some work, and second, to allow her to move around the class at her own pace to help those who needed it.

Traditionally the boys would wait until she was engrossed in explaining something, then take up another activity (Minami had taught them all how to hide adult magazines in between the pages of their textbooks, and a number of them were getting good at kicking a ball around without being noticed).

Of course, the benefits of having fun had to be balanced off against the risk of getting caught by Yankumi and sustaining mild to moderate injuries (Matsudaira claimed that some of his hair had fallen out as a result of being hit on the head one too many times.)

With the addition of Maruyama, it would be easy to assume that they were now at double the risk of getting caught, but anyone observing the class that day would see that Maruyama was far too busy to spot such things.

"Maruta! Over here, I need help with this one."

"Okay, I'm coming."

"Marutaaaa, help me next!"

"Yes, yes…"

Yankumi had been patiently taking Kuma through things from scratch, crouched low by his desk and murmuring explanations in a soft voice. However, she was becoming increasingly distracted by the fact that 'Maruta' (as 3-D had nicknamed him that morning) was in constant demand.

She left Kuma and came over to Shin, who had finished the work and was reading a novel. He looked up at her as she hovered by his desk. "I don't need any help."

"I know that," she hissed. "I want to ask you – what's going on?"

He feigned ignorance. "What do you mean?"

She gestured vaguely at the rest of the classroom. "_That_. The others – and Maruyama-sensei –"

He shrugged. "Maybe they think he's not so bad after all."

"Really?" Her face split into a wide grin. "That's great!"

He scowled at her. "Why does that make you happy?"

"Why wouldn't it? If they've accepted him – it must mean he's a good teacher. And that they're capable of trusting other adults." She clasped her hands and tipped her head thoughtfully. "And I was thinking I'd have to force you guys to spend time with him."

Shin choked violently, and Yankumi whacked him on the back in an absent-minded manner.

* * *

One week passed, and then another.

Maruyama's timetable, initially sporadic, finally settled into a stricter pattern – he would split his week in half, and spend the first half until midday on Wednesday with Kumiko, and the latter half with Nakano-sensei teaching physics.

This presented interesting results for Kumiko, who began to notice something.

Every class other than 3-D seemed to respond well to the combination of Yamaguchi and Maruyama. Every class other than 3-D, therefore, became highly productive on the days that Maruyama was present, and then appeared to be less enthusiastic when he wasn't there.

Conversely, 3-D reacted in a bizarre manner to Maruyama – monopolising his attention but still treating him with contempt. When it was just Kumiko on her own, they became much better and apparently enjoyed the class a lot more.

Eventually she decided that there was no way she could win, and she'd just have to make the best of it.

Since that night at the cinema, Maruyama hadn't brought up what he'd said, and she'd avoided the subject as well.

"_Did you know that I liked you when we were at university together?"_

Had he been serious? Or was he just teasing?

He had just smiled mysteriously when she'd half-shouted, "What?!", and refused to respond.

She'd hardly been able to concentrate on the film after that – her mind was full of questions and baffled thoughts. She half-wondered if she'd misheard, but the words were so firmly embedded in her brain that she couldn't even begin to convince herself of that.

But if she'd heard him right, and if he'd been serious – well, then, what was his reason for telling her?

The whole thing was giving her a headache.

Her worries didn't end there, either – Sawada's behaviour was a source of concern.

He'd developed a habit of not turning up to class on the days that Maruyama was around. She'd scolded him for it a number of times and given him strict instructions to turn up, but she obviously wasn't getting through.

Finally, enough was enough. Sawada had skipped both of her and Maruyama's classes this week, and at the end of another weird lesson watching Maruyama run from student to student, she made an excuse and stormed furiously up to the roof.

She slammed the door open and it hit the wall with a resounding smack.

Sawada, flat on his back with a set of headphones in his ears, sat bolt upright and stared at her.

She marched right up to him, bent down and yanked the headphones out. "_What," _she ground out, "_are you playing at?"_

He glared at her stubbornly. "I'm not 'playing' at anything."

"Then why aren't you coming to my classes?"

He gave an exasperated grunt. "Because I don't feel like going. And it's not like I need to, anyway – you're just going over old stuff, aren't you?"

"Attendance is _compulsory_," she said firmly. "You have to come."

"_But I don't need to,_" he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Sawada_ – you_ may not need to be there, but _I_ need you there."

His jaw dropped. "What?"

Oh. That hadn't come out right. "What I mean is – well – " she backed away from him rapidly, feeling flustered. "It's good for the others if you're there. You're a good influence. Which… makes it easier for… me. Yes."

She had managed to put some distance between them at first, but now he was standing and following her. "You said you need me there." His eyes were dark. His longer legs could cross the space that divided them faster than she could move away.

"Well, yes, I – but I just explained – " _Work, brain, work!_ How was he doing this? _She_ was supposed to be able to ruffle _his_ feathers, not the other way around. "Anyway! The point is, you should start coming. I can't keep overlooking it."

Her back hit something solid. Ah, yes. The wall.

Sawada stared at her intently, towering above her. "So," she said, rather weakly, "that's… settled, then?"

His hands hit the wall on either side of her.

For a few moments, her mind went blank. She couldn't think. She could hardly even breathe. He leaned close to her and as their breaths began to mingle she had one half-coherent thought: _he's going to kiss me._

The sound of heavy, thudding footsteps in the stairwell brought her back to reality with an unpleasant jerk; she just had time to duck underneath Sawada's arm and move away from him before Kuma appeared. "Shin, you want to go – ah, Yankumi."

"I'm going," she said quickly. Hesitating briefly, she turned to look at Sawada. He was half-leaning against the wall, his face hidden from view. "Sawada, start coming to class, okay?" It came out softer than she'd intended, but maybe that was no bad thing.

He gave no sign that he had heard her.

She waited until she was all the way down the stairs and through the door at the bottom before she let out a loud groan. What the _hell_ had just happened?

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I am currently feeling good – had a good week, about to eat some Chinese food, what more could I want? Here's to Fridays, and the weekend, and to glaring resentfully at the alarm clock next to my bed which I will inevitably have to set on Sunday night. Sigh Have a good one!


	7. Chapter 6

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Sorry, you guys, this was supposed to be posted on Friday but I got distracted. Let's call this an end-of-the-weekend present. (Two days is just not enough.) Also, I was to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has been reviewing – your comments have been so wonderful to read. I know some of you have asked questions/made comments that I really want to reply to – might start doing that in the next chapter so look out!

Anyway, on with the latest instalment…

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Shin did start attending Maruyama's classes again, but not because he had any great desire to learn mathematics, or participate in the ongoing scheme to keep Maruyama as busy as possible.

His chief motivation was to try and push Yankumi's buttons.

Until that day on the roof, he hadn't considered that he would ever be able to have such an effect on her. She had always been the one who was three steps ahead, who was ready with a smart retort or a solution to the problem, and for as much as Shin had ever been able to do to help her, it seemed that she would always be capable of doing more for him.

But he'd cornered her. She had looked up at him and not pushed him away. He had been _so close_…

In a rare outward display of irritation, he'd tripped Kuma up as they left school that afternoon, then claimed it was an accident.

Would she let him get that close again? And if she did, would she let him kiss her? He had to know. If he had even the slightest chance to win against the man who had suddenly reappeared in her life, then he had to take it.

* * *

It was Friday.

Maruyama had now been teaching at Shirokin for a month and a half, which was considered to be quite an achievement considering previous teachers' tendencies to flee on the very first day. Fujiyama had suggested that all of the teachers should go out for drinks and a meal to celebrate, and before Kumiko had a chance to refuse, it had all been arranged.

She sighed quietly as she finished up with her last class of the day, making sure everyone knew what homework they were supposed to be doing and answering all the last-minute questions. It wasn't that she didn't want to go out that night – she thought it would be fun – but she'd had other things on her mind lately and she didn't think she'd be very good company.

It had been more than two weeks since she'd confronted Sawada, and from that day on, something seemed to have changed.

Whatever that 'something' was, it was subtle. If anyone had asked her, she wouldn't have been able to put her finger on it, and if she tried, she would probably sound like a crazy person.

He was just… _around_ more.

_Oh, yes. She was definitely losing it._

He was always there. It wasn't just that he attended every class – and she was thrilled about that, she really was – or that he turned up for every homeroom session at the beginning and end of the day. It was his presence at other times that she had begun to notice.

Between classes, for example. And near the school gates at the beginning and the end of the day. And _at her own house._ (To be fair, it was usually she who invited him, but several times she'd arrived home to find him watching TV while Tetsu and Minoru claimed to have 'found' him and brought him back.)

She didn't mind, or anything. It was just unexpected.

"Yankumi," he said one day, thrusting a piece of paper under her nose as she walked back to the staff room at lunchtime, "give me some help, will you?"

It was a Sudoku grid. She stopped walking and stood to one side of the corridor, out of the way of the hordes of hungry students heading for the cafeteria. Sawada leaned over her as she peered at the paper. "You would pick an 'extra difficult' rating, wouldn't you?" she muttered as her eyes scanned the rows. "Ah! Here, you can put a five here. And then you can complete that row."

He took it back off her, scribbling the numbers in. "Thanks, Yankumi."

She stood and watched him go, half baffled by his swift appearance and even quicker departure, and half disturbed by the fact that his closeness had felt… nice.

She got into Sudoku after that. When he came to her house, they often sat together in silence doing two separate puzzles, occasionally swapping if they got stuck.

It was funny how quickly he'd become accepted into their family (not as an official member of the Kuroda group, of course; that would only happen over her _cold dead body_). The others more or less expected to see him at the dinner table; if he didn't come one evening, she would put some of the leftover food into boxes and go over to his place to deliver it.

Once or twice, Maruyama had invited her to do something – go for drinks, or see a movie – as friends, of course. (At least, she thought so. It was difficult to tell.) Afterwards she had arrived home to find Sawada waiting for her with an accusing look on his face. He never said anything about it, but his attitude gave her the impression that he was pissed off with her.

It gave her a strange, indefinable feeling. Almost as though she were _cheating _on him.

Which was a stupid idea, and just served as further proof of her apparent mental instability.

Nonetheless, the feeling persisted, and so it was that on Friday afternoon after she'd done the register, she waited until Sawada was slouching past her desk – he was the last one out of the room as usual – and said in a low voice, "I'll be out with the other teachers tonight, so I'll be late." Then, casually, "If you were planning to drop by, that is."

He gave her a calculating look. "Is Maruyama going to be there?"

She blinked. "Well, yeah, I mean – " This was bad. He was making her feel flustered again. "He has to be there, because it's kind of _for_ him – like a celebration, since he's been here a month, you know?"

It was there again. The accusation in his eyes, as though she was doing something wrong. "Hmmm," he said at last, "well, it's none of my business. You didn't have to tell me, you know."

"I know that," she said indignantly. "I just… thought I should. Because it's _polite._"

She turned her back on him, her bag tucked under one arm. He was so _frustrating_ at times; she never knew what he was thinking.

A firm hand grasped her elbow, pulling her to a sudden stop before she reached the door. She could feel him standing behind her, her arm and shoulder almost pressed against his chest. She felt him move closer, and then his voice was whispering hotly in her ear, "I'll wait until you get home. So don't stay out too late."

And then he was gone, leaving her dry-mouthed and shaking and inexplicably aroused.

* * *

She was _useless_ at the restaurant that night. She hardly heard a word anyone said – inside her dazed head, she was still in her classroom with Sawada.

"Kumiko-san?" Maruyama was looking at her with concern. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Hmm? Me?" Unconsciously she sat up straighter and reached for her drink. "Yes, I'm fine. Just… tired."

Fujiyama, sitting to her left, nudged her in the ribs and said quietly, "So it's _Kumiko-san _now, eh?"

Kumiko gave her an exasperated look. "We've known each other a long time, it would be odd if he just carried on calling me 'Yamaguchi-sensei'."

"Oh, why don't you just give it up and make a public announcement already?" Fujiyama took a long swig of her drink. "So you're seeing each other! Why hide it?"

Kumiko returned the nudge, although it was considerably sharper than Fujiyama's had been and it made her yelp loudly in pain. "We are _not_ seeing each other," she hissed. "We're friends."

Fujiyama glared at her. "Well, you may say that, but I've seen the way he looks at you. Even if you're just friends now, it won't be for long. Trust me," she said coolly, "if I thought he wasn't interested, I'd have made a move by now."

Kumiko scowled and picked at her food. As nonchalantly as possible, she glanced down at her watch. It was still early. Could she get away with leaving now?

"_I'll wait until you get home,"_ he'd said.

He'd probably just said it to bother her. Then again, if he had shown up at her house, and was planning to wait – well, that would be time spent being exposed to the corruptive influences of her family. And that would be bad!

Suddenly struck with certainty, she pushed back her chair and stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," she announced. "I'll see you all on Monday." She left some money under her glass for the bill and made a hurried exit, weaving through the tables with her coat over her arm.

Outside the restaurant she stared at the dark, empty street. _Damn._ She hadn't brought her car – she and Fujiyama had caught the train from school together, but her home was in the opposite direction. It would have to be the bus.

"Kumiko-san!"

She turned to find Maruyama behind her, and felt a pang of dismay. She really didn't want to get into a discussion about why she was leaving.

"I've got my car," he said, surprising her. "Let me give you a ride home."

"Is it all right for you to leave?" she asked. "I mean, it's your party. Kind of."

He grinned. "It's not as much fun if you're not there."

She smiled awkwardly in response, feeling colour rise to her cheeks. That kind of comment made her feel more uncomfortable than pleased, but Maruyama didn't seem to get that.

It wasn't until they were in the car and driving along in silence that she realised: there was no way she could let him drop her off outside her _house_. Not unless she wanted him to freak out and possibly give her secret away.

As she was worrying about this, Maruyama glanced over at her. "You've not been yourself tonight. What's up?"

"Oh… nothing really. I mean, I've just got a lot on my mind right now, that's all. Sorry if I've been distracted."

He sighed. "I see. I'm sorry."

She frowned, puzzled. "Sorry for what?"

"For saying what I said that time. About liking you. It's been bothering you – I apologise. I shouldn't have said it and then left it like that."

She couldn't say what she was really thinking right then, which was, 'Oh, that? I'd forgotten about that.' She hadn't given it a thought in quite a while.

But it would be best to play along. "Well, it did surprise me."

His fingers tapped the steering wheel idly. "I meant what I said. I really did like you when we were back at university. And the truth is –" He glanced at her again, and reached over, taking one of her hands in his. "My feelings haven't changed. Kumiko-san, would you -?"

"Um, it's just here," she gabbled hurriedly, pulling her hand from his to point to a random house at the side of the road. "Thank you."

"Kumiko-san –"

"Maruyama-sensei," she interrupted him, "I – I don't know what to say. I thought you only saw me as a friend."

He pulled over a little further up than where she'd pointed. She was still several blocks away from home but it would have to do. Maruyama took her hand again. "I value our friendship," he told her sincerely. "That's why I think that this could work – we already have a good foundation for our relationship. We have a lot in common, we're both alike –"

_I don't think that we are,_ she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. She knew what he was going to ask next.

"Will you go out with me?"

She bit her lip. "Maruyama-sensei, I don't think that would be a good idea. I mean, we work together, and it could make things difficult. I like you as a friend, but –"

His fingers squeezed hers tightly. "Kumiko-san," he sounded strained, "I know it's been sudden. Won't you at least think about it for a while?"

Guilt and claustrophobia pressed her to take the quick escape route being offered to her. "All right, I will," she said reluctantly. "I'll think about it."

"Great," he seemed relieved. "That's great."

"I'll see you on Monday!" Then, lightning-fast, she was out of the car and slamming the door, waving at him.

She waited until he'd pulled away and was some distance down the road before she began walking. Men – _normal _men, that was, rather than Yakuza men – tended not to ask her out, so she wasn't used to handing out rejections. She would have to be tactful with Maruyama because, as she'd said to him, they worked together.

She knew that she didn't want to go out with him. Any brief attraction which had resurfaced when he'd arrived had now gone. Her feelings for him were purely platonic.

The best thing to do would be to take some time, allow him to believe that she was considering going out with him, and then let him down gently.

She smiled. Making the decision was an instant mood-booster. She walked the rest of the way home with a spring in her step.

As she reached her house and walked through the tall gates, she remembered the feel of Maruyama's hand on hers. _It was nothing like Sawada's._

How strange that this thought did not surprise her.

* * *

"I'm home!" she called out as she opened the front door, kicking off her shoes.

The house was silent. Even Tetsu and Minoru – who were usually coming to greet her as soon as they heard her footsteps on the path outside – were nowhere to be seen. She wasn't too worried – occasionally, unexpected business took her grandfather out of the house. If he hadn't called her, then it probably wasn't urgent.

"Welcome home, _ojou_," said a familiar voice.

Startled, she jumped, and peered through into the living room. Sawada was sitting on the floor by the table, leaning back casually on his hands.

"Sawada!" she exclaimed, dumping her bag on the floor and joining him at the table. "Did they just leave you here? That was rude of them, I apolo –"

"They didn't leave me," he said before she could start making a fuss. He gestured through to the next room. "Wakamatsu's in there. He went to watch TV, but I think he fell asleep."

"Hmm," was all she said. It was still rude, in her opinion.

He shifted closer to her – whether this was deliberate or inadvertent, she didn't know. Her heart thumped harder. "So," he said, "how was your night?"

Like a lead weight in her stomach, the memory of Maruyama's request came flooding back. She closed her eyes briefly and hung her head. "Let's just say I'm glad to be home," she replied.

When she opened her eyes, Sawada was giving her a piercing stare. "What happened?"

She sighed and leaned forward to rest her head on the table, using her arms as a pillow. "Maruyama-sensei asked me out."

The young man sitting next to her became very, very still. "I see," he said flatly. There was a tense silence.

"I _want_ to say no," she continued, feeling the burden of worry becoming lighter with each word, "but I don't want to make things awkward at school. Or lose his friendship."

Sawada's arms came into view as he adopted a mirror-image of her position at the table. They were less than half a metre apart. "It's better to be honest," he told her seriously. "You can't go out with him just because you don't want him to be pissed off."

Oddly, that advice did not feel patronising. It was just the truth, after all.

"You're right," she mumbled. "Just have to figure out the right way to say it." She yawned sleepily. "Anyway, forget about that – what have you been doing this evening?"

"Sudoku," he tapped a book lying unnoticed on the table, "and waiting for you."

She could feel her cheeks burning. "You could have just gone home," she pointed out.

"But I said I'd wait."

It was as though she was experiencing it all over again – his firm hand gripping her elbow, his voice in her ear. She became acutely aware of the colour in her cheeks, the pounding of her heart, the warmth curling in the pit of her abdomen. "Yes," she said softly. "You did."

He reached out. His fingers pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She didn't move. She wasn't sure she could.

He traced a path down her cheek to her lips. His eyes were dark, and when he moved towards her, she knew for certain that he was going to kiss her. In the back of her mind, she also had a vague idea that she might not bother to stop him.

"So then the rat bastard pulls a gun on me!" Kyou's voice roared loudly as the front door slammed open.

In the other room, there was a dull _thump_ as Wakamatsu woke up from his nap.

"Course, I hit him before he could even move, the piece of – oh, ojou!" Kyou broke off as he and the others came into the living room.

"Welcome back." She could only hope that her smile wasn't too obviously strained, and that they wouldn't notice the fact that her face seemed to be on fire.

Kyou appeared to be oblivious as he sat down near Shin. "Shin-chan!" He grinned up at Kumiko. "This guy wanted to wait til you got back. Ain't he great?"

"Ahh, of course," she laughed nervously. "He's my student, after all."

Saying the word sent a sharp pain lancing through her chest. _Student._ She hadn't been thinking about that a few moments ago.

Involuntarily, she glanced at him. His shoulders were hunched and she thought she could see frustration etched into his face. He wasn't looking at her.

"Hey, Shin-chan, you want to stay over?" Kyou asked enthusiastically. "There's plenty of room."

Panic gripped Kumiko's heart, although she couldn't fully explain why. It was just a bad idea, in her opinion. Her protest caught in her throat, however, when she saw the brief hopeful lift of Shin's eyebrows.

"Of course he should stay over," she said sternly, ignoring his sharp look of surprise. "It's far too late for him to be going back home. Tetsu, Minoru, go and make up the guest room."

Her grandfather caught her eye and gave her a knowing look. She turned hastily and busied herself by staring at the floor with interest. She wondered if he knew – or could tell – what had almost happened between her and Shin.

She _really_ hoped not.

"I'm going to have a bath," she announced to no-one in particular. If nothing else, it would allow her some peace and quiet for a little while.

* * *

She soaked for a long time – long enough to make her fingertips wrinkle and to loosen the tight knots of muscular tension in her back and shoulders.

When she finally emerged, the house was quiet. She felt at peace as she shuffled along the corridor to her room. She passed the guest room, but the door was closed and she couldn't hear a sound from inside, so she guessed that Shin had gone to bed.

She had been silly, she'd decided in the bath. A silly _girl_, thinking of kissing her student. It wasn't something she planned to do again.

She imagined that Shin was probably thinking the same thing. After all, what boy would want to kiss their teacher? Well, unless it was Fujiyama-sensei, of course.

Her bed had been nicely warmed by the hot water bottle that was nestled between the sheets, and she made a mental note to thank Tetsu the next morning. She was just curling up under the covers, feeling extremely comfortable and ready for sleep, when she heard the soft knock at her door.

She sat up abruptly, irritation pricking her mind. _This better be important,_ she thought crossly. "Come in!"

The door opened the barest amount, and a lean, tall figure slipped inside. "Hey," said a familiar voice, "uh… it's me."

She blinked wildly. "_Sawada?!_ I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I'm going now," he replied, a little defensively. "I just… wanted to say… thanks, I guess."

She squinted, trying to see his face in the dark and failing. "For what?"

There was a faint rustle. Probably a shrug. "For letting me stay."

"You're welcome anytime," she told him gently. "I mean that."

There was a long pause. She wondered if he had heard her.

Then he said, "Did he ever kiss you?"

Her heart began to thump harder at the mere mention of a kiss. "Er… _who_?" she asked.

"Maruyama." He sounded tense and angry. "Did he?"

"No," she said, wondering why he wanted to know. "Never."

His footsteps were soft on the floor; she could see his figure moving closer. He stopped by her bed, and she felt the edge sink under his weight. "Good," he murmured quietly. She realised that his face was directly in front of hers. "That's good," he repeated.

And then his lips were pressing against her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth.

_Did he miss?_ was her first thought. Then her mind became foggy and she couldn't think as easily.

His lips were warm. She could feel his hair tickling her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut.

He pulled away and whispered, "Good night."

And then he was gone. Dimly, she registered her own reply, and the sound of the door opening and shutting. Slowly, she sank back into her pillows.

_Damn you, Sawada,_ she thought, annoyed. She was wide awake, and sleep would not come easy tonight.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I really, _really_ hope you liked this. As you can tell, things are starting to move a bit faster – this is necessary for the story, but I'm wary of things going _too_ fast. (On a separate note: can you tell I'm a bit obsessed with Sudoku at the moment?)


	8. Chapter 7

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Er. So, this chapter is a little bit late. Or, to be more accurate, a lot late. (Somewhere, miles away, my old English teacher just had a stroke.) To make up for it, I am going to do two things – first, I'm going to give some love to my wonderful reviewers (see Author's Note at the end), and second, I'm going to work extra hard to get the next chapter up soon.

How's that? Do you love me now? (Say yes, you know you do…)

One additional note: Um, most of this chapter was not actually supposed to happen. But after some consideration I have played around and extended things a bit, which is at least partly to do with why it's up so late.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Shin sighed as he lay back on the very comfortable, very inviting guest bed.

Ah, well. He'd had a good life, all things considered.

It was a shame it was going to end so soon, and so violently, but he supposed he'd brought it upon himself. After all, a man could hardly go into the bedroom of Yamaguchi Kumiko, sit on her bed, kiss her on the cheek without warning, and expect to _survive._

He rolled his eyes. What the hell had he been thinking? Or had his brain been completely disengaged from the very start?

Abruptly, he whipped out the pillow from underneath his head and held it above his face, wondering if he could successfully smother himself without waking anyone up.

To tell the truth, he was a little surprised that she hadn't hurled him to the floor and beaten the living shit out of him. He was still waiting for the _thump-thump-thump_ of footsteps that would indicate his impending death-by-Yakuza. Presumably the delay was only because her henchmen were having trouble believing that anyone could be _stupid_ enough to try it on with the fourth generation heiress, in her own house, while her family slept only metres away.

Personally, Shin was struggling with the concept himself.

He replaced the pillow beneath his head, wondering with pointlessly false flippancy whether Maruyama had ever visited this house. Did he even know about the Kuroda group? Did her family know about Maruyama? And – most importantly – if they did, what did they think of him?

Shin huffed and rolled onto his side, annoyed with himself.

This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to matter. She'd said that she didn't want to go out with Maruyama, and that ought to be the end of it. But Shin trusted Maruyama about as much as he trusted that the battered shack down the street from his apartment building really _was_ just an innocent 'Health Emporium' offering relaxing, healing massages for a low, low price.

Maruyama clearly wasn't going to give up, and Shin wasn't in the habit of taking the path of least resistance. Which meant that he needed to start making things clearer to Yankumi – soon.

The question was, how much clearer would he have to make it before she finally got a clue?

* * *

For a number of years, Yamaguchi Kumiko had survived very well without a man in her life. Shinohara-sensei, when he had been around, had been the object of her affections – but she'd never once thought that she couldn't live without him.

The men of her family had taken up her heart for a long time, and her unrequited loves had been sufficient to fulfil her occasional yearnings for a romantic life. She hadn't yet reached the point of wanting to settle down and have a family. So the fact that few men had shown an interest so far wasn't something she spent a lot of time contemplating.

And now that there appeared to be _two_ of them – simultaneously – she found herself somewhat _distracted_, to say the least.

It was mainly the persistent invasion of her personal space that was giving her a headache.

"Kumiko-san," said Maruyama, appearing over her shoulder in the staff room, "may I talk to you?"

Given that she knew what he wanted to talk to her about, and that they had an audience, she felt understandably reluctant. "I'm a little busy right now," she replied guiltily, shuffling papers in front of her. "Maybe later?"

His shoulders slumped. "Sure."

It had been almost a week since he'd asked her out, and so far she'd avoided giving him an answer. He often seemed frustrated with her, but she knew he was trying to be patient. She couldn't stall much longer; she just needed to find the right way to say it.

Unfortunately for her, the simple act of _thinking_ was becoming complicated and stressful. Her mind was displaying a startling tendency to flash back to _certain events_ at inconvenient moments. Namely, her star student's apparent penchant for cornering her and…

She shook her head wildly, startling a number of nearby teachers.

This was really getting out of hand now.

She didn't know what Sawada was playing at – whether he was trying to mess with her head, or had a bet with some of his classmates, or even – for some unfathomable reason – actually believed himself to be interested in her.

Whatever it was, she needed to nip it in the bud. Preferably _before_ he took it too far and did something that she could get fired for. However, every time she managed to find a chance to speak with him alone, he would stand close and tower over her in that daunting way of his, and she would forget what she had planned to say.

She felt like a weak-hearted idiot, letting herself be drawn in by him. He's a _boy_, she reminded herself daily. Most of his actions were probably hormone-related.

Yet it was hard to convince herself that he was a boy when he stood so near, and his dark eyes locked with hers, and her heart tried to leap out of her chest. At times like that, she could only see him as a man.

_No,_ she thought sharply. _This has to stop._

She would talk to him as soon as possible. Preferably with a desk or something similarly sturdy between them.

Unfortunately for her, that discussion would have to wait a little while.

* * *

For the last couple of days, she had noticed a young-looking student – maybe a first year – hanging around outside her classroom. He was short, with messy black hair and a shy, awkward face. He kept peeking in and then running away, and any time she made eye contact he would squeak and disappear from sight.

At first she'd assumed that he had some kind of crush on one of the 3-D boys – it wouldn't be the first time, after all – and had elected to leave things as they were. If the kid wanted to say something, he would; it wasn't for her to interfere.

But then she'd caught him skulking around outside 3-A's classroom while she was teaching them the previous afternoon, and she'd begun to wonder if there was something else going on.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore; the next morning she was putting 3-D through their paces – while studiously ignoring Sawada's relentless stare – and she glimpsed a movement out of the corner of her eye. "Maruyama-sensei, I need to go to the staff room," she lied. "Can you watch the class for a few minutes?"

If she'd been less distracted she might have noticed the way that Maruyama looked suddenly wary and uncomfortable, and the fact that Sawada was no longer staring but _glaring_ at her – but she didn't.

She slipped out of the classroom in time to catch sight of the boy disappearing around a corner. She grimaced as she took off at a sprint; really, the kid ought to just give up now, since she was going to catch him anyway. It would save both of them a lot of trouble.

He started flagging pretty soon after he hit the stairwell, trying – foolishly – to head up towards the roof, and she finally caught up to him when he collapsed in a heap two floors up. "For crying out loud, kid," she muttered, sitting down next to him, her back against the wall, "use your head once in a while, will you? If you've got something to say, say it!"

He was panting heavily, his face burning bright red – whether with exertion or embarrassment, she couldn't tell. "Sorry," he managed eventually. "I just…" But he couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

"What's up?" she asked. "Got problems with one of the brats in my class, or something?"

"No, no –" he began hastily, but she cut him off.

"Because don't get me wrong, I love my students, but I'm not blind – I know they don't make life easy for other classes. So if you want to talk about it…"

He shook his head frantically, unable to meet her eyes. "It's not that. Yamaguchi-sensei, I wanted to talk to _you_."

She blinked. "To me?"

His voice was small, but not as timid as she'd previously suspected – he was _worried_, she realised. "It's my older brother," he explained. "I think… No, I _know_ he's involved with a really bad crowd. And I don't think he can get away from them."

* * *

She ought to put it on her resume. 'Expertise in stealth tactics and low-level espionage.' Maybe add, 'Able to corrupt a multitude of impressionable young people with minimal supervision' and 'Skilled in combat techniques, including specialist moves used to beat the crap out of little kids.'

Really, it was a miracle anyone had hired her to start with.

Next to her, Shin shifted restlessly. "How long are we going to sit here?"

"As long as it takes," she snapped irritably. "I'm not exactly having a party here, either, you know."

He glanced at her, surprised. "What's up with you?"

She sighed, and closed her eyes, tipping her head back against the cold brick wall. "Sorry. It's nothing… I don't know."

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. The night air was chilly against the exposed skin of her face, and her breath was visible as little puffs of white mist. The only sound was the not-too-distant laughter of the teenagers messing around in the park some distance away. On the edge of the group, she could see one boy looking awkward, hanging back from the others. He fit the description of Tennouji Ryu, Tokihisa's older brother.

She couldn't hold back a scowl.

"All right," Shin's voice was louder and clearer this time, and she looked up to see that he'd shifted closer to her. "Out with it. What's bothering you?"

"It's late." She gave him a pointed look. "Go home, okay? I can handle this."

"I never said you couldn't."

"And yet you invited yourself along anyway." She glared at him. "Don't give me that 'I need the exercise' crap – admit it, you think I need a… a bodyguard, or something."

He elbowed her sharply; she realised that her voice had risen sharply and the boys were looking around for the source. She and Shin huddled low, mostly hidden by the unwieldy metal structures of the kiddies' playground. She only exhaled when the group seemed to lose interest and go back to what they were doing.

"I don't think you need a _bodyguard_," Shin argued, "but you can't go into these situations alone. There are seven guys over there – I know what you're capable of, but if one of them is armed…"

She felt very cold, tired, and irritated. "Don't you think I've considered that? I can't believe I'm going to say this to you – stop talking to me as though I'm a kid."

He flinched. She could see a muscle twitching in his jaw, his fists clenching by his sides. "Funny," he ground out, his voice almost strangled in his throat. "Because that's how you talk to me _all the time._"

The way he said it – tight words, laced with barely restrained frustration and fury – knocked the breath from her chest.

He couldn't see, she realised, just how hard she was trying to maintain what she saw as the natural balance between them. She wasn't doing it out of a vague sense of obligation; she was doing it because it was the _right_ thing to do, and because anything else could mean big trouble for both of them. But in her efforts, she had obviously done some damage to his pride, and potentially to their relationship as well.

Now, however, wasn't the time to discuss it.

"Six," she said abruptly.

She expected a stony silence. Instead, he heaved a painful sigh and replied, "_What_?"

"Six guys," she corrected him. "The seventh is the one we're here to help. And besides," she added petulantly, "it's not like I've never met an unarmed opponent before."

"Hmm." He made a vague noise at the back of his throat. "Since we're on the subject of the seventh guy – mind telling me exactly why we're stalking some random kid? I know his brother asked you for help, but… I mean, he's not even in your class."

"Exactly!" she hissed, smacking her fist against her palm. "_Exactly,_ Sawada. He's not in my class, but he felt like he had to come to _me_ because he didn't think his own teacher would care."

He rubbed his hands together in his lap. "Does this mean you'll be beating up Washio-sensei tomorrow morning?"

She scoffed. "I _ought _to. That guy gives teachers a bad name. I bet that kid was going out of his mind with worry for weeks and Washio didn't even notice."

Across the park, the group was starting to move, shuffling lazily along the rough, winding path into the thick trees. She unfurled her legs, stretching them out in front of her and wincing at the ache in her stiff muscles. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, and glanced down at where Sawada sat. "You coming?"

He pushed away from the wall and stood up. She couldn't help but be struck by just how much taller he was. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and she was pretty sure she hadn't had to do _that_ when she'd first met him.

"What are you staring at me for?" he asked suddenly, one eyebrow raised.

"I – I am not _staring_," she sputtered, embarrassed. She turned on her heel and stalked away from him so that he wouldn't see her bright red face. "I was just looking at you in a _normal_ _way_, that's all."

"Uh-huh." A few strides and he was walking alongside her, lips quirked upwards with amusement.

She ignored him and walked faster.

They found the boys about a quarter of a mile along the path, attempting to break into what looked like a small shed. The park wardens probably kept tools and gardening equipment in there; she could only imagine what havoc the group would wreak if they were armed with spades and hedge-clippers. Once again, Ryu was standing back watching the others, his gaze skittering nervously from side to side.

She sighed. No point trying to be subtle, in any case. "Oi!" she called out, and began to approach them. "What the hell are you kids doing?"

They looked up and, on seeing her, seemed to relax a little. "Move along, old hag," said the one who was crouching next to the padlock with a bent pin in his hand. "Don't mess with us if you know what's good for you."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, kid, you look about _twelve_. Also," she bristled indignantly, "I am not an old hag. Now step away from there or I'll rip your arm off."

Lockpicking Kid snorted. "Whatever." And he carried on as if she had never spoken.

They had obviously judged that she was no physical threat to them, and Lockpicking Kid seemed to think that she'd go away if he ignored her. But a few of the others looked a little ruffled; probably, she supposed, because at the very least she was a witness to their attempted crime. One of them stepped in front of the rest. "Seriously, bitch, get out of here," he said, his eyes darting past her to look at Shin. "Don't you and your boyfriend have anything better to do?"

She bit her tongue to prevent herself correcting him – she wasn't going to be drawn into a ridiculous argument, even if they were making assumptions that were _factually incorrect._ "Let's make this simple," she said instead. "Either you stop what you're doing, or I will call the police and have you arrested. Oh, and I might beat you up as well."

This time, Lockpicking Kid did stop. He dropped the pin on the floor and stood up, swaggering towards her in what was obviously supposed to be an intimidating manner. She heard a soft step behind her and knew that Sawada was close by. "Don't get involved," she murmured softly over her shoulder. "Stay on the edge. When the time is right, grab the kid – he's the one in the red t-shirt. Don't let him go."

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat; it might have been annoyance or assent, or maybe even both. Either way, she felt a sudden burst of gratitude for his presence.

Lockpicking Kid stopped in front of her. "You have a death wish or something?"

She grinned at him. "Nope. I just want you to go home like a good little boy. You can do that, right? I mean, you know how to walk and everything…"

He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket. "Listen, bitch –"

That kind of did it for her. She'd been called worse, but one of her pet hates happened to be people who grabbed her clothing. She paid good money for it, after all. She reached up and pulled the guy's hand away, her fingers crushing his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Don't do that again, okay?"

He stared at his hand as though it were possessed. Then his fingers curled into a tight fist and he drew his arm back, his face contorted with rage.

She darted out of the way at the last minute, letting him stumble forward before she caught his outstretched arm and twisted it behind his back. His free arm reached back to grab her, but she pulled it all the way back, hyper-extending it and forcing him to groan with pain. "Let's try this again," she said, and kicked him in the back of the knees.

He fell to the floor instantly, and she let go of his arms. "Go home," she said very clearly, "or I'll do that again."

One of his friends, a heavily tattooed guy with far too much muscle for his own good, tried to catch her by surprise from the side, but she saw him and turned, swinging her leg up to slam her foot into his groin. The colour drained from his face and he whimpered as his hands flew to the front of his jeans.

"Third time lucky," she muttered, and made very deliberate eye contact with the remaining five. "Do you guys really want to stick around, or do you want to take this opportunity to _run away_?"

One or two of them looked as though they might try their luck, but the others were already backing away; she advanced as they retreated, stepping on the head of Lockpicking Kid, who had looked on the verge of leaping up. "You know what?" she said thoughtfully. "Maybe I ought to call the police anyway. Since you were, you know, breaking the law and all."

Of course, she would no more call the police than she would kiss the principal on his shiny, bald head, but they didn't need to know that.

The five of them took off at a sprint, and she gestured to Sawada, who followed in hot pursuit.

As she'd suspected, Tennouji Ryu, who was weedier than the others, wasn't particularly fast. He fell behind, and Sawada caught him easily, dragging him back to her by the scruff of the neck like a mother cat with a wayward kitten (although, she reflected, he probably wouldn't appreciate the comparison).

She left Lockpicking Kid and his tattoed friend behind, and as soon as she'd put some distance between them, they made a speedy escape, shrugging unapologetically at Ryu as they abandoned him to his fate.

"Great friends you've got there," she muttered. "I can see why you'd want to hang out with them instead of go to school."

"I didn't _do_ anything," Ryu spat, "so you've got nothing on me. Go on, call the police if you want." He started to puff out his chest, a cocky smirk on his face. Then it slid away, replaced by a confused frown. "Wait. How'd you know I'm not in school?"

"Because, you idiot, you're making a lot of people worry about you." She sighed. "Come on. It's too damn cold to discuss this outside. Let's go to the café."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** OK, here goes.

Many, _many_ thanks to: **Iriel, Vine Verrine, sharo-cam, Naoko, blueprincess16, renagrrl, ducks-rule-world **(cool name!), **Astral Fancy, mmm.kai.mmm, DimLight, babs08, lilyoftheval05, Princess of the Rogues, dead2self, Valmarien, TESHii-KOiiBiiTO, ivy Avalon, gthistle, CrazySakuraBlossom, Mizuki hikari, rainbow-kitten91, Angry Girl, elebelly, Aya, decktable, Amber Laing, NausicA, Left Hook, Cabba, Ihotshot83, Solo, Obsidian Tigress, Mittelan, hevava, Grey, xladykittyx, White-Lily-Blossom, Doriana, Ieatfeet **(another cool name),** Green.On.Black, onigiri18, mysterygal02, Kechia, DarkSmile, ImmortalSoull, DelusionCafe** (how do you put hearts in reviews?!),** Lita of Jupiter, LonelySoul828, Li, dark, Junipertree, Komichi, Reader One, Calindy, konARTISTE, kk, Jazz, Kirehsei, operator13, Spiel, Real Dream Nirom, Inirini** (next chapter of Resolve will come soon, yes?), **KAT-TUN Lover, froggy, Sleepy Mangos, MsLessa, Houseki, meatbun66** (hey, I don't think I'd realised you had an FFNet account as well – hello! Waves), **Amber,** **Rayne Hunter, SheCool, MizBermy, Monki-Neko, Tani Barton, CM, gatogirl1, -w- easy enough, entity.unknown, shooting star 0160, Shortshorty, Duke-of-Spades, Miranda, Noona, VBee, **and finally, **Angel'sMystery**.

Phew. Okay. I need to lie down now. Next chapter up soon. Please review. Passes out


	9. Chapter 8

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Wow, this is so incredibly late. Nearly three months late, in fact. The only excuse I can offer is that I have been insanely busy with my studies (I am a medical student, for those who don't know). I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and to those who said 'please continue with this' – you guys kept me motivated!

A quick note about Chapters 7 and 8: basically, I wanted a little manga-esque adventure where Yankumi discovered a problem and set out to make it right. But the character of Ryu serves a slight double-purpose, as you will see in later chapters. In fact, eagle-eyed readers may notice a slight hint as to how Ryu might pop up again in this chapter.

Anyway, onwards and upwards …

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Ryu had struggled all the way up the street, but Sawada's grip had held firm, and eventually he'd given in, throwing his ass into a chair in the café and sitting at the table with a sullen expression while Kumiko went to order.

When she returned, she had the impression that Sawada had been talking to the kid, but they both shut up pretty quickly when she sat down.

Ryu glared at her. "This is like kidnapping, you know that, right? Maybe _I_ should call the police and tell them there's a crazy bitch loose in the neighbourhood – ow!"

Sawada had cuffed him sharply around the head. "Don't call her that. She's trying to help you."

The kid looked at Sawada. "Hey, I thought you said you weren't her – _ow_! What was that for?"

"Just shut up," Sawada muttered crossly.

She tried to get the situation back on track. "You _are_ Ryu, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Who the hell told you?"

"Your brother is _worried_ about you." She frowned as she gave him a stern look across the table. "And he told me that your parents are, too."

Ryu sat back, his lip curling with disgust. "_That_ idiot? What, just because he doesn't get to be part of that crowd, I have to stop having fun? That's pretty pathetic – _ow_! Will you stop hitting me?"

"No," she said sharply, since she had been the one to deliver the blow this time. "Your brother is hardly pathetic. Who's the one trying to act like a big man, hanging around with kids like that who spend their time vandalising property, huh? Who's the one whose so-called 'friends' ran off and left him at the first sign of trouble? _You_, that's who. The only pathetic one around here is –" She broke off abruptly.

Ryu looked like he was about to cry. He was staring fixedly at the table, his little face crumpling miserably.

Great. Another thing to add to the resume. 'Able to use a complex mixture of insults and injuries to reduce children to tears.'

"They said they'd look out for me," he said bitterly. "They said we were all in it together. They weren't supposed to just run off and leave me."

The waitress arrived with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a black coffee for Sawada, who was also treated to a flirtatious wink on the side, free of charge. Kumiko watched to see if he would reciprocate, but he didn't so much as glance at the woman. Instead he turned to Ryu and said, "They would have done it eventually. Bastards like that aren't worth your time, so don't even think about it anymore."

The waitress stalked off, irritated, and Kumiko bit back a smirk. Then Sawada looked straight at her, his gaze locking with hers, and she felt as though she'd been pushed backwards. He nodded his head pointedly in the direction of the waitress and smirked knowingly.

She kicked him under the table.

"Easy for you to say," Ryu was muttering darkly, oblivious to the way Sawada's face was contorting with pain. "At least when I was hanging around with them, no-one messed with me. It was like… I was _someone_, you know?"

"You think that's gonna matter in five years, or ten?" She leaned forward. "Was that your plan for the future – to be in a gang? How long were you planning to keep it up? What, at sixty-five years old you'll still be hanging around in parks at night?"

The kid slammed his mug down onto the table, hot chocolate sloshing over the sides. "I don't have an alternative, okay? I'm no good in school, I don't have some job all lined up for me, or family connections… what was I supposed to do?"

"You're _seventeen_," she said earnestly. "What you're supposed to do is talk to your family and your teachers, not drop out and join a gang. Your brother told me that you didn't even stick it out for a year at Meibi High."

"I _told_ you, I'm no good at –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, no good at school, I heard you the first time. You know how many times I've heard that? It's a lousy excuse – always has been, always will be." She drained her mug, savouring the bittersweet taste as it clung to her throat. "When you say you're 'no good', what you mean is, you don't want to make the effort. Well, tough luck, kid, cos you have to whether you like it or not, and so does everyone else. Of course…" she glanced at Sawada, "a few people have to make a little less effort than the rest, but they're pretty rare, so you won't run into many of them."

Ryu was staring at the table. "Even if you're right, and I just need to put more effort in… I don't like anything. None of those subjects are interesting." He made a face. "Science, bleurgh. Languages, bleurgh. Yadda yadda yadda."

"You want to know a secret?" she asked casually, scraping a fingernail over the stripy pattern on her mug. Sawada's head snapped sharply in her direction, and she bit back a smile.

"I'm a maths teacher," she went on, "but I pretty much hated maths at school. I just knew I wanted to be a teacher. I might have hated maths, but I got average marks – and when I'd finally decided that I wanted to teach high school, I knew I had to settle on something, and I couldn't see myself teaching anything else. But once I'd made that decision, I started liking it a whole lot more. You'd be surprised how much you can change your mind about something once you realise that you actually _need_ it."

Sawada looked a little disappointed. Most likely hoping for a juicier secret than that.

Ryu was gazing solemnly at her. "And what if I don't know what I want to be?"

"I promise you that I'm not just saying this because I'm a teacher," she told him, "but your best chance of figuring that out is to stay in school."

Ryu scoffed, but he was smiling. "You really know how to drive a message home, don't you?"

She grinned. "What can I say? It's a gift."

* * *

They walked the kid back to his house – where, it turned out, he'd been sleeping on an old couch in the basement, which was easily accessible from the back yard through a small, low window.

Kumiko rolled her eyes. "Your poor brother's been out of his mind thinking you were sleeping rough on the streets. And I don't even want to _know_ what your parents thought."

Ryu scuffed his foot on the ground. "They're gonna kill me." He gave them a reproachful look. "You realise you're throwing me to the wolves, here?"

Sawada glanced at her, half-smiling. "It's not as if you were hanging around with fluffy bunnies before. "

He scowled. "Yeah, yeah, whatever…" Ryu might be playing it cool, she thought, but she could see the respect in his eyes when he looked at Sawada.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, kid – tell me again what's going to happen tomorrow."

Ryu sighed painfully. "I'm going to haul my sorry ass to your dump of a school and fill out an enrolment form."

"That's right." She clapped him on the back. "And if I go to the office at the end of the day and I don't see that form, I'm going to come over here and drag you all the way there myself. Not to mention kick your ass while I'm at it."

Rather than complain, as she had expected, Ryu gave Sawada a pitying look. "You seriously want to inflict _this_ on yourself for the rest of your life?"

From his tone, she deduced that by 'this', Ryu was referring to her. She was pretty sure that it hadn't been a complimentary reference, either, even if she didn't really understand what he'd meant.

Sawada gave Ryu a dark look. "Are you going inside, or what?"

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Jeez…" He started to shuffle away from them. The lights were on inside the house; it looked warm and inviting. Halfway to the door, he stopped. "Thanks," he said, over his shoulder. "I guess."

"You _guess_ –" she started to reply, on the verge of addressing his ingratitude, but stopped when Sawada's hand clapped over her mouth.

"Leave it," he advised. "He was being sincere and you know it."

His hand was pressing firmly against her mouth and skin. She could smell the scent that was normally masked by foreign aromas like ink, earth and cologne – this scent was underneath all of those, a scent that was human and masculine and uniquely _Sawada Shin_. If it had been anyone else, she would have stuck her tongue out and waited to see how quickly they would yank their hand away and cry, "Ewww!"

But it wasn't anyone else. She had a feeling of clear certainty that if she licked Sawada Shin's hand, she would get an altogether different reaction. But her doubt as to what that might involve was too great to ignore.

So she didn't do it. She let him withdraw his hand by himself. He did it slowly, and she fought back a shiver as his fingers slid over her lips. He didn't shove his hand in his pocket, as she'd expected; instead, he curled it into a fist and covered it with his other hand. Watching him do that made her feel weird, as though she'd uncovered a closely-guarded secret without meaning to.

They lurked out of sight, watching as the front door opened and Ryu was dragged over the threshold into the arms of a half-screaming, half-sobbing woman. The door slammed shut and they could still hear the faint strains of, "… you have _any_ idea how worried we were?" accompanied by, "Ow, _mom. _Get off me," as they walked away.

"Right," said Sawada, his hands _now_ in his pockets. "So, we saved the kid. You know that if you're going to do this every time someone comes crying to you, you'll basically end up taking responsibility for every kid in our school… _and _their relatives."

"Naturally." She tossed him a grin. "I want every kid in Japan in school by the time I hit thirty."

Sawada's mouth twisted with amusement. "I guess you don't have long, then. Better get to work."

Her hand moved so fast he didn't have time to duck, and she clobbered him heavily on the side of the head. "That was far too easy, Sawada," she grumbled as he staggered and cursed. "Shame on you."

He complained about possible brain damage until they reached his neighbourhood. "Wait a sec," he said, as they were walking down his street. "I should have walked _you_ back."

She gave him a stern look. "If you're even _trying_ to suggest that I can't take care of myself, so help me, Sawada, I will –"

"Choke me to death with your bare hands, I know," he finished. "Shut up, that's not it. But it's weird for _you_ to walk _me_ back."

She laughed, inadvertently snorting. "Like a reverse date!"

It was dark, so she couldn't tell for sure, but she _thought_ she could see a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks that hadn't been there before. Even worse, she thought she had one to match.

And – oh, crap – he'd seen it.

Embarrassment slipped into interest. "Don't you think that's a little inappropriate, Yamaguchi-sensei?"

Crap, crap, _crap_. Her heart thumped harder. He was right. Of course he was right, of course it was inappropriate, what the hell had she been _thinking…_?

Wait.

She'd made tons of comments like that in the past. 'I'm the amazing teacher that he adores', 'Have you fallen in love with me?' and so on. Not once had any of his smartass comebacks ever bothered her before. How _dare_ he make her feel bothered!

Sawada was giving her a weird look. "Earth to Yamaguchi," he said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Come in, Yamaguchi, do you read me?"

"Shut up," she snapped irritably. She turned and walked away, keen to put some distance between them. "Go inside, Sawada. I'll see you in the morning."

She didn't hear a reply and she scowled, increasing her pace. She hadn't walked him back for kicks, she'd done it to make sure he got home safe, and what did she get in return? Annoying comments about being inappropriate. She couldn't believe she'd let him get away with that.

Exactly _why_ she had let him get away with it was another matter.

Truthfully, she'd been so flustered when he suggested that her 'reverse date' remark was improper that her main thought had been to get out of there. She wished she'd never said it. It felt like, over the last few weeks, her relationship with Sawada had gone down a road she could never have imagined, and too quickly for her to stop it. Suddenly he was _there_ all the time, making her thoughts drift to him, making her think about things she shouldn't even _consider_…

Twice he'd almost kissed her.

Once he _had_ kissed her, albeit briefly on the cheek.

Numerous other times he'd touched her and invaded her personal space.

He was the one doing this, _he_ was making all the moves – but she had never lifted a hand to stop him. She'd never even brought it up.

That had to change. Tomorrow, she decided – tomorrow she would talk to him, end this bizarre… _thing_ once and for all. Then it could stop, and she could have her mind back again, her sanity restored. She nodded decisively, her mouth set in a grim line, and tried her best to ignore the fact that this resolution didn't make her feel as good as she'd hoped it would. In fact, it seemed to have had the opposite effect.

She kept up a brisk pace all the way home, cutting a good twenty minutes off the time it would have taken her on a normal day. She slowed as she approached the heavy wooden gates, the familiar sight pulling her back to reality.

The faint sound of a footstep some distance behind her caught her attention, and she realised that she'd been an idiot by letting herself get distracted by her thoughts. She turned on her heel swiftly, fully prepared to defend herself, but was faced with an empty street. She frowned, surveying the area for potential hiding places… and sure enough, at the end of the street, where the high stone wall surrounding her house curved left onto the intersecting road, she could see a foot sticking out from around the corner.

She scowled, and stalked quickly and quietly towards her attacker, keeping close to the wall. She held her breath as she got near, flexing her knees and preparing to spring out and give the guy a good ass-kicking. At the last possible second, she caught a flash of red hair in the shadows and instead of a smooth, well-timed spring, she managed to execute a clumsy stumble.

"Sawada?!" she shrieked, having recovered. "What the hell are you doing?"

He looked half-surprised, half-exasperated. "What does it _look_ like I'm doing? I'm walking you home."

She didn't know whether to be please or annoyed. "W-Well… you shouldn't have! I told you before, I can take care of myself."

He shrugged. "I know."

She narrowed her eyes. "If you know, then why –"

"Because I wanted to, okay?" He grimaced. "You weren't supposed to see me. Although, you looked pretty distracted most of the way here – did you know you almost stepped out in front of a bus?"

"No I didn't!" she protested, although truthfully she had no idea.

"Yeah, you did. I was going to grab you but you stopped in time." He frowned. "It's not like you to be so out of it. Are you okay?"

_Now_. She should tell him now, get it over and done with.

But the words wouldn't come. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said instead. "You want to come inside?"

"Nah, I'll head back now. Say hi to your family for me." He lifted a hand in the air as he walked away, a nonchalant goodbye. "See you tomorrow."

She cursed herself for not taking the opportunity that had been offered to her. But it at least strengthened her resolve to get it done tomorrow – and this time, she would not back down.

* * *

As it happened, she spent the better part of the following morning avoiding Maruyama, who apparently – according to the other teachers, at least – was looking for her. That was another thing she knew she couldn't put off any longer; she just wished she knew how to say 'no'.

This wasn't like saying, 'no, I don't want another bowl of rice', or 'no, you can't beat up my students' while grinding someone's head into the floor. This was _romantic rejection_, and the last time she'd had to do that, it had been by way of a challenge to a fight.

Somehow, she didn't think she could apply that strategy to Maruyama.

In any case, she was running out of time to think it over. Maruyama caught up with her in the faculty office at the end of the lunch break, just as she had been about to go to her next class.

"Kumiko-san!" he exclaimed, delighted. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry, I've been really busy," she lied. "In fact, I'm on my way to another class now."

He gave her a determined look. "There's something we need to discuss – you know what I mean, right?"

_Crap._ She obviously couldn't feign ignorance when he was being so straightforward with her. "All right," she said boldly. "We should discuss it – but I don't feel comfortable doing that here. Can you meet me at the end of the day?"

She'd hoped that her serious approach might give him a clue about what her answer would be, but if anything he just looked pleased. "Of course I can – I'll see you then!"

She fought the urge to groan loudly as he walked away. _Great._ Now there were two conversations pending. Could this day get any better?

* * *

3-D was in a cheerful uproar when she walked into their classroom for the last class of the day. "Quiet!" she yelled. "Jeez. What's got you guys so excited?"

"Chikamatsu got a girlfriend!" Shimazu announced, giving the boy in question a forceful slap on the back.

Chikamatsu looked both pleased and embarrassed at the attention. "Shut up, you guys…"

Their unrestrained happiness was like an instant anti-depressant, soaking through her skin and soothing the tension from her body. Who could be miserable in the face of _this_?

"That's great, Chikamatsu!" she enthused, grinning as his face turned bright red. "Where'd you meet her?"

He ducked his head. "She goes to Meibi High. My sister goes there too… she came round to our house a few weeks ago, and…" he trailed off.

"And the rest is history!" Kumiko finished, feeling genuinely thrilled. She usually heard her class complaining that girls wouldn't look at them because they went to Shirokin.

"I hate to ruin the mood," she teased, "but I have to start teaching you stuff now. So climb down from your desks, okay?"

They complained good-naturedly, settling into their seats.

As with all Maruyama-free lessons, 3-D were relatively well-behaved and co-operative. She even managed, with no need for threats and intimidation whatsoever, to get them to form a line to come up to the board and solve one problem each. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Noda finished his with a flourish, signing his name as though it were a piece of artwork. "You guys are really getting this! I'm so proud."

Sawada was next; she had deliberately given him a much more complicated problem in order to test his abilities. As expected, he sailed through it as though it were as basic as two plus two. He gave her a cocky grin and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you're great, we know," she muttered with a smile.

His arm brushed against hers as he moved back to his seat. She ignored the tingle in her skin, focusing all of her thoughts on the next student.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel Sawada's eyes on her for the rest of the class. If anything, it served as an uncomfortable reminder of the task she would have to do later.

The end of the class came sooner than she would have liked, and it was with a knotted stomach that she gave Sawada a pointed look and gestured to indicate that he should stick around after the others had gone.

"Hey," he greeted her amicably when the classroom was empty. "So, did that kid fill out the form, or are we going back there tonight to, and I quote, 'kick his ass'?"

"No, he filled it out," she replied, her back turned to him as she rubbed the board clean. "I'm going to speak to the principal about it and make sure he gets accepted." She brushed her hands together a few times to get rid of the chalk dust, and turned around.

"So… what's up?" He was leaning against the desk, his fingers curled around the strap of his bag.

She bit her lip, stalling for time by shoving papers haphazardly into her bag. She found she couldn't meet his eyes. "Eh… Sawada… I think I need to make something clear."

Unexpectedly, he growled and slammed a hand down on the desk. "If you're about to tell me to back off, you can _forget it._" He leaned across the distance, thrusting his face close to hers. "I know what I want. You can't do anything about that."

She swallowed thickly, feeling confused and off-balance. "B-Back off," she repeated. "Back off _what_? What do you mean?"

He stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You really are an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Hey!" she protested. "Look, I – I'm just trying to say that… that maybe I've _allowed_ our relationship to become too … too… well, anyway, I haven't acted appropriately, and I just wanted to tell you that –"

"_You've_ acted inappropriately?" he cut her off, his eyebrows climbing up into his hairline. "Well, look, it doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "Like I said, I know what I want. I'm not going to stop –"

He broke off at the sound of a light knock at the door. Maruyama hovered just outside the classroom. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"_Yes_," they said together. Kumiko cleared her throat. "Um, I mean – Sawada just wanted some career advice."

"Okay," he nodded. "I'll wait, then."

She sighed, her heart sinking. This wasn't going the way she'd planned. "You're going to turn him down, right?" Sawada said in a low voice.

She blinked. "Uh… yes – but, look, Sawada, this is exactly what I mean. It's not appropriate for a student to know things like that, or to discuss them with a teacher. If anyone heard us talking – "

He pushed away from the desk. "I'm going," he announced, ignoring her. "See you at home."

"Sawada!"

She felt a mixture of shock and anger. Maybe this was meaningless to him, but it could cost her her job. She started to go after him, but an echo of something he'd said brought her up short. _"See you at home."_

'At home.' Did he really think of her house as home?

She groaned. Yet another example of how improper their relationship had become. What the hell was she going to do?

Maruyama's head popped through the door again. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, fine," she sighed. "He's just… stressed, I think." _And so am I,_ she added silently.

He approached her, looking expectant. "You know what I want to talk to you about, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I do." She rubbed a hand over her face. "Maruyama-sensei, I –"

"Please, call me Takumi," he pressed. "'Maruyama-sensei' sounds so formal. We're friends, aren't we?"

She seized the opportunity. "Yes! Yes, we are friends – we're _good_ friends, and that's why I think it'd be a mistake for us to go out, Maru – uh, Takumi-san. I don't want to ruin our good relationship."

"Kumiko-san…" He sighed. "Won't you at least give me a chance?"

"Maru – I mean, Ta – "

"One date," he persevered. "Just one date. That's all I ask."

She squirmed uncomfortably. "I really don't think it's a good idea – "

"If you still feel the same way after one date, I promise I won't push this again. And we can go back to the way things were. Come on, what do you say?"

She wanted to be firm. She wanted to say 'no' and refuse to negotiate. But when he stood there looking so unhappy, with just the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes, she couldn't help but wonder whether an outright rejection would do more harm than good.

So she relented. "Okay. One date – "

His eyes sparkled. "Great! You won't regret this, Kumiko-san – "

" – _but_," she continued, interrupting him, "I should warn you that I don't plan to change my mind. I still think this is a bad idea."

This did not sober his mood a great deal. He was still grinning when he left, promising to let her know when he'd made arrangements for the date.

Kumiko sank down in her seat, sighing despondently. Of the two things that she had set out to do, neither had gone as she'd planned.

So not only was she weak-hearted, but apparently she was useless as well.

_Great. Just great._

* * *

The house was busy when she got back – Kyou was talking shop with her grandfather, Tetsu was slicing fish expertly while Minoru kept an eye on the rice, and Wakamatsu was apparently giving Shin tips on how to fight dirty.

"If you try to teach him about _sashigoro,_ I will _kill_ you," she warned Wakamatsu as she kicked her shoes off.

Wakamatsu backed away warily, and Shin eyed her curiously. She could tell that he wanted to say something – probably about Maruyama – but was holding back while there were other people around. _Good,_ she thought. She wasn't in the mood for that kind of conversation, particularly after the way he'd spoken to her at school.

Thankfully, she was able to postpone talking to him at all for several hours on account of an extended sparring session with Kyou, followed by dinner, and then the lot of them settled down in front of the television to watch 'Yakuza Passions' – a completely unrealistic drama, but one of their favourites nonetheless (tonight, Takuya found out that Seiko's baby wasn't his).

Of course, she couldn't avoid him forever, and when the show had finished the others began to leave – they had their own things to do. Eventually only she and Shin remained, and an awkward silence permeated the room.

Shin broke it. "Let's go outside." He wrapped his long fingers around her wrist and tugged.

She pulled her arm away, levering herself up from the floor and walking past him without saying a word.

Outside, she settled into a comfortable position on the veranda, leaning against one of the wooden posts. Shin plopped down next to her, apparently unperturbed by her cold attitude. "So," he said, "what did you say to Maruyama?"

"I've already told you," she said firmly, "I can't tell you this kind of stuff. It's not appropriate. I need to draw a line."

Shin scoffed. "It's not like anyone's going to find out."

She stared at him. "Can you promise that? This is _serious_, Shin – I could lose my job. And I _like_ my job. I like teaching. If I got fired for something like this, I might never be able to teach again." She sighed, pulling off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "Can you please try to see where I'm coming from, here?"

He at least had the decency to look contrite. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely. His eyes slid up to meet hers, and his apologetic expression smoothly transitioned into one of almost _dangerous_ curiosity. "You called me Shin." His voice was silky. She felt a shiver slide over her skin.

She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Well, that's your name."

"But you always call me Sawada."

It was true. She didn't know how to reply, so she changed the subject. "I said I'd go on one date with him."

The change in his face was so rapid and threatening that a few stray tendrils of fear wrapped around her heart. His glare was stormy and he didn't bother to keep his voice low. "You did _what_?!"

"Shin, calm down!" She heard the slip of his name again, but at that point she no longer cared. "Look, I just needed to get him off my back – "

"You said you were going to say no," he reminded her heatedly. "And now, somehow, you're going out with him."

"He said that if I still didn't want to go out with him after one date, he'd back off," she explained desperately, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

"Are you _stupid_?!" he roared. "Don't you have any idea how men think? This is just going to make him worse – if he thinks he's got one date, he'll use it to seduce you!"

"First of all, he's not the 'seductive' type," she shot back, "and in any case, even if he _did_ try, he wouldn't succeed."

Shin got to his feet, looming over where she sat. "Call it off," he demanded.

"What?"

"I'm serious." His stare was firm. "Tell him you're not going."

"Shin, I – "

He reached down and, gripping her arms, hauled her to her feet before she could react. She was trapped between his tall body and the wooden post behind her, the edge of it digging painfully into her back. She could fight him off if she wanted to. She knew she could. She just… didn't seem to _want_ to.

"You're an idiot," he told her, for what felt like the millionth time, "if you think that I'm just going to hand you over to him without a fight."

One moment, her eyes were widening with surprise, the next –

His mouth was on hers.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Dun dun _duunn_!

Mwahaha. My God, this chapter is 11 pages long in MS Word. My word count is ringing in at 5326 (although that includes author's notes, etc) and spellcheck is going crazy with all the Japanese names! (Interestingly, the spellchecker does not recognise the word 'spellcheck'. It is underlining it in red.)

My plan is to have the next chapter up soon (although, I have said this before, and it did not happen) – this time, the next chapter is _almost_ sort of done, it just needs looking at and finalising, and then we'll see.

Thank you for your patience!


	10. Chapter 9

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** OK, this chapter's a little shorter than the last one, but I'll make that up to you in the future. In the meantime, I have an **important message** (so important I needed to announce it in bold type): this is going to be the last T-rated chapter. As of Chapter Ten, this story will go up to 'M' rated. This is for strong language in future chapters. (Don't worry, it's not like there'll be a profanity every second word, but people are going to start swearing more. I apologise in advance if that might bother you, but I do feel it is both necessary and in-keeping with the manga.) I'll repeat this at the end in case I missed anyone.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The thing she hated herself for the most afterwards was not the fact that, at the back of her mind, a little voice sighed '_finally'_ as Shin's lips slid, hot and wet, against hers. No, the thing that would later cause her more than just a little mental anguish and self-loathing was the fact that rather than pushing him away immediately, as she should have done… she fisted her hands in his shirt and kissed him back.

For a second, he seemed to freeze – and then he was pulling her close to him, his arms curling around her body so tightly that she wondered if he ever planned to let her go.

His tongue brushed against her lips, and she stifled a moan –

Somewhere inside the house, a door slammed loudly; they heard Tetsu curse, and Minoru's muffled response. Silence fell once again.

They had broken apart quickly at the noise; now, Kumiko met Shin's eyes – dark with something heavy and primal that she couldn't recognise – and stepped back from him, her arms dropping to her sides.

The realisation of what she had done felt like a brutal kick to the stomach. She clapped a hand to her mouth and looked away. "Oh, my God," she muttered.

"Yamaguchi –"

"I – I shouldn't have done that," she mumbled. "I'm sorry." She turned to go back inside. "I think it would be best if you went home now, Sawada."

She could almost _hear_ him flinch at such an impersonal form of address.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," she added as she pushed the door open. She didn't wait to hear his reply before she went indoors, moving briskly through the living room and down the long corridor leading to her room.

She barricaded herself inside, locking the door and pressing her back against it, sliding down to the floor.

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. All she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing. What she had done – what she had barely even _questioned_ doing… was worse than wrong.

It was completely and utterly unforgivable.

And she had no way to take it back.

* * *

Shin didn't come into school the next day.

He probably hadn't forgiven her, she thought sadly. And how could she blame him?

_He _had kissed _her_ – but she had let him. And then run away. When had she ever run away from her problems? She should have stayed and talked it out with him.

But her feelings had been in turmoil then, as they still were now. If she had stayed, would they have kissed again? Would it have gone further? She just didn't know.

Either way, she had really messed things up this time.

To become attracted to a student… she had never thought she would be _that _kind of teacher.

If she were honest, she would say that she was glad that Shin hadn't come into school. Because she didn't think she would have been able to face him if he had.

The weekend passed.

The guilt didn't. The confusion didn't.

She wanted to ask her grandfather for advice, but every time she tried, the words wouldn't come. How could she admit that she had inappropriate feelings for one of her students? For everything that her family did – all the less-than-legal activities she knew they were involved in – she felt like this was somehow _worse_ than all of that.

She was supposed to be responsible for him – to act as a parent while he was under her care. _In loco parentis_, as it said in the school brochure.

She almost laughed. What kind of parent would feel this way about their child?

Except, of course, he was most definitely _not_ her child.

Shin had been almost like a friend and confidante for so long – someone she could talk to easily, and feel comfortable with. Someone she hadn't minded coming home to. When had she started to see him as _more_ than that? When had she first looked at him and realised that he was very tall, and very attractive, and very much a _man_ – not at all like the boy she had met more than a year ago.

On Monday, she feigned a headache and asked Maruyama to take the register for 3-D. When he returned it, she flipped it open and scanned the list of names.

Her heart sank.

Shin was in school today.

Her head was in a state of chaos for most of the day; she managed to get through her lessons with other classes on autopilot, delegating a lot of the work to Maruyama while she spent her time with individual students who needed extra help. This was exactly why she liked mathematics, she decided as she pointed out a mistake to Saegusa, one of her 2-C students. It was logical. It made _sense._ There were rules and formulae; wrong was wrong, and right was right.

If you made a mistake, you went back, and you fixed it, and you got the correct answer in the end.

_Not like _my_ mistake,_ she thought, suppressing a sigh, then almost hit herself on the head as punishment for her bout of self-pity.

The thought of having to look Shin in the eye after what had happened made her feel anxious and queasy. The knot in her stomach grew bigger and bigger throughout the day, and when it was finally time for Monday's last class – 3-D – she chickened out.

"You're ready," she told Maruyama. "You can teach 3-D by yourself."

"Really?" he looked unconvinced. "Because… they don't seem to like me much."

"Oh, no," she said hastily. "That's just their manner. They do like you, I'm sure of it. You'll see."

So off he went. And she felt like the world's biggest coward.

She thought she had got away with it – for Monday, at least – but Maruyama returned to the staff room earlier than expected, looking deeply troubled and upset. "It was…" he shook his head, unable to get the words out. "I can't go back there. Please, Kumiko-san, will you go and take the register?"

She blinked, startled. "What happened?"

But he refused to say.

And so it was that, with a sense of doom hanging over her head, she made her way to 3-D.

The noise inside was incredible. She was sure they'd never been as loud with her.

She pushed the door open. "All right, quiet down!" she yelled. "Come on, let me do this and then we can all go home." She chanced a quick look at the back of the class.

Shin's seat was empty.

A mixture of relief and worry twisted her gut. He must have gone home early.

"Oi, Yankumi," said Uchi, sounding annoyed. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Yeah!" Minami agreed. "That guy's bad enough when it's the two of you, but on his own…?"

She gave them a pained look. "I don't know what your problem with him is, but you need to get over it. Part of Maruyama-sensei's training involves leading classes by himself, that's just the way it is." She scanned the list of names, her pen moving quickly as she filled the squares with lines or circles to indicate whether they were present or absent. "Okay, we're done. You can go."

If she hadn't looked up at that very moment, she would have missed it. In the split-second before everyone got up and started moving around the room, she caught sight of Shin's bag, tucked underneath his desk.

_He's still here,_ she realised.

And instantly, she shook off the last of her fear and cowardice. Here was her opportunity. It was time to make things right – no more running away, no more avoidance tactics.

And she knew exactly where she would find him.

* * *

At first she thought he was asleep; he was lying back on the bench, one arm hanging down towards the floor, the other draped across his stomach.

She hovered tentatively in the doorway, wondering whether to wake him or not.

He opened his eyes and stared darkly at her. "Are you done avoiding me, then?"

Her heart pounded faster and she swallowed. "I'm sorry."

He sat up, not taking his eyes off her for a second. "What are you sorry for?"

To some it might have sounded like he was being kind, letting her off. But she heard the subtle intonation – he was actually _asking_. And from the tense set of his shoulders and the thin, grim line of his mouth, she felt as though a lot depended on her answer.

She stepped fully out onto the roof, letting the door shut behind her. "I shouldn't have kissed you –" she began.

He was on his feet before she realised it, making quick, long strides towards her.

"– I shouldn't have run away," she continued bravely, "and I shouldn't have avoided you afterwards."

His palms slammed against the wall on either side of her. "Why are you doing this?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Why do you _always_ do this? None of this is your fault. Who was the one who kissed you? Me!"

"But I didn't stop you!" she yelled.

The look in his eyes changed. "No. You didn't."

"And I – I should have stayed, and talked things out," she rambled, trying valiantly to ignore the way he was standing so close, his breath whispering against her hair. "So… I'm sorry."

She glanced up at him, and her heart leapt into her throat.

His face was right in front of hers. She was staring directly into his eyes – and she had no idea what he was thinking.

Or what he was going to do.

* * *

Mainly, Shin wanted to kiss her. That or throttle her.

But the way she was talking now – all of this self-blame that was messing up her head – if he kissed her, she'd probably push him away, if not punch him in the face.

Instead, he said, "You shouldn't have walked away. And you _definitely_ shouldn't have sent Maruyama to take the class just because you wanted to avoid me."

Her shoulders slumped, and he had to resist the urge to pull her close to him. He hated seeing her so downcast – especially if he was the cause. "Wait," she said suddenly, "you were _there_? In Maruyama-sensei's class?"

Shin remembered seeing that guy walk into the room alone; remembered thinking that this was the guy who had wheedled his way into a date with Yamaguchi, and remembered the white-hot fury that had laced through his veins, making his blood boil.

He glared at her. "Yes, I was there," he snapped irritably. "I left after ten minutes. That guy's hopeless. What were you thinking, putting him in a room with us? He didn't even _try_ to control them."

She snorted. "_No-one_ controls 3-D – you know that."

"_You_ can," he admitted reluctantly. "They'll listen to you."

"Hardly," she muttered.

There was an awkward pause. They still hadn't discussed the burning issue, and they both knew it.

"Look," he said eventually, not liking how quiet his voice had become, "if you don't feel the same way, you could have just _said_. You didn't have to run off and avoid me like that."

She blinked, taken aback. "I – you –" she spluttered incoherently. "Feel the – how – don't – _what?_"

He watched her, a strange feeling beginning to unfold in his chest. "Yankumi," he said carefully, "_do_ you feel the same way?"

She folded her arms across her chest protectively, shrinking back against the wall. "I – that is – well, what do you mean, exactly? How do you feel?"

He could see the colour creeping up her neck. He was starting to feel uncomfortably warm himself; he hoped it didn't show. "I'm in love with you," he said as simply as he could.

She stared at him, her cheeks now stained a deep red, lips parted with shock.

"So," he pressed, "_do_ you?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I – as a teacher, I have to – I mean – "

He grabbed her arm. "Yankumi," he bit out forcefully, almost trembling with anticipation, the idea of 'what if what if what _if_' reverberating inside his head. "Just say it."

"I don't know," was her quiet response. "I don't know how I feel. I thought I did, and then –" She trailed off, giving him a look of such confusion and desperation that something twisted painfully in his gut.

He lifted a hand to her face. His fingers traced the line of her jaw.

Distantly, dimly, he heard Kuma's voice calling his name.

"He's going to come up here," she said thickly.

"I don't care," he muttered, wondering how close she would let him get this time. His head dipped and he let his forehead come to rest against hers.

Her arms unfolded; her unsteady hands reached out, landing on his shoulders, and she…

_Pushed him away._

"It'll cause trouble for both of us if he finds us," she said softly. "You should leave first."

He opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes made him shut it again. His head felt pleasantly light as he realised – she wasn't sending him away because she _wanted_ to…

"We'll talk another time," she promised.

He knew she meant it. That was the only reason he was able to step back from her and walk away. He barely heard his own footsteps on the stairs as he went to find Kuma; his head was filled with the memory of her breath on his face, the heat of her skin next to his hand, the way she had unconsciously shut her eyes before she had pushed him away.

He would have kissed her, and he thought she probably would have let him.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, fighting to keep the frustrated groan down. He was _sick_ of being interrupted, _sick _of not being able to do a damn thing without worrying about being caught.

"Shin!" Kuma's voice was nearer this time.

Shin sighed. He'd waited this long, he supposed. It was just a matter of being patient.

_Provided,_ he thought moodily, _that_ _I don't go insane first._

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Ooh, I should do a fic in which Shin _does_ go insane. That could be interesting.

As I said above – the rating will go UP in the next chapter to 'M'. I'm warning you now so you can adjust the filter when you check the Gokusen category. On a totally separate note: who has seen/read Goong? I devoured what there is of the manga this weekend and now I'm onto the drama. I swear to god, if Chae-kyung doesn't kick Shin's ass soon, I will explode.

Have a good week!


	11. Chapter 10

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Yikes – ok, this was pretty late, which wasn't intended. I have a lot of work on my plate right now, which is actually an incentive to get this story finished so that I can have time to focus on exams and other similarly delightful things. The time frame that I'm working with now is aiming to have this finished by May at the latest, so with any luck my posting frequency will increase between now and then!

Happy reading…

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

"_I'm in love with you."_

If someone had asked her to explain Sawada Shin's behaviour towards her – his constant presence, the staring, not to mention the… well, the _kissing_ – she would, with very little hesitation, have said hormones. Her second option would have been some kind of bizarre psychological issues stemming from a parent-complex, and if pushed for a third, she would have suggested some kind of bet with his classmates.

In the end, all of those had turned out to be wrong.

'_In love…'_

Ordinarily she'd be highly sceptical, but she had looked straight into his face and seen his honesty, and been left with absolutely no doubt in her mind that he was telling the truth.

If she'd had a shred of uncertainty… even one moment's hesitation holding her back, forbidding her to believe that he was being completely sincere… she would have opened her mouth and responded with a lie. She would have said that she didn't love him, that there was no chance on earth that she would ever feel the same way about him, that she only saw him as a student, a little boy and nothing more.

But she couldn't say any of those things.

He'd been truthful with her and she was obligated to do the same for him. Even more than that, she _wanted_ to open up to him. Bottling everything up was driving her crazy; he was the only one who could understand and would listen to her. Even if all she said was, "I don't know."

Because somehow, that was enough for him.

And that mattered more to her than a thousand declarations of love.

* * *

Shin had wondered whether to tell the rest of 3-D that Yankumi was going on a date with their most hated teacher. On the one hand, he thought there wouldn't be much point since it was only going to be a one-time thing.

On the other, it would almost certainly piss them off. And they would take it out on Maruyama, who had had just about enough of them already.

Monday's class had not been pleasant.

When Maruyama had walked in alone, what had been a vague sense of restlessness amongst the students had abruptly turned into a much nastier atmosphere.

"Oi, where the hell is Yankumi?" Uchi had snarled when it became clear that she wasn't just trailing slightly behind.

"Uh… I'll be teaching you today," Maruyama's hands had been shaking ever so slightly as he opened up the textbook. "Yamaguchi-sensei is… busy."

Shin had scowled at that. _'Busy.'_ Right. Busy avoiding _him_.

There had been a brief lull as they collectively weighed up whether to actively harass Maruyama, or ignore him.

They opted to ignore him. Which meant that the football came out, a number of them produced dirty magazines, and they all made themselves comfortable by putting their feet on the desks. Maruyama just looked on, powerless.

Shin had watched, his eyes half-closed, to see if Maruyama would take a stand, or try to assert any kind of authority over them at all.

He did not.

Instead, he wrote some problems on the board and half-heartedly asked them – _asked_! – to work out the answers by themselves.

Naturally, they had paid no attention, and Maruyama had slumped into Yankumi's seat. Shin had left not long after, unable to watch as the classroom spiralled into total chaos. Things had only ever been this bad in the time before Yankumi had arrived; back then, teachers often didn't bother to show up for classes – too scared, most likely, especially after hearing about their violent behaviour – and their previous homeroom teacher had found it so difficult to deal with them that he had resigned.

They had all assumed it would be the same story with Yankumi, but they couldn't have been more wrong. No matter how insulting or unflattering their descriptions of her might be, 'afraid' was one word they could never apply to Yamaguchi Kumiko.

So he was relatively certain that if he told 3-D about Yankumi's date with Maruyama, their attitude towards him would become at least ten times worse.

But that could make Yankumi's life more difficult. And therein lay his dilemma.

In the end, he didn't have to decide at all. Someone else did it for him.

Maruyama, in fact.

It was a well-known fact within the school that other classes seemed to like the combination of Yamaguchi and Maruyama. It was something that the teachers often remarked upon, as well as the students.

Shin had once been walking with Uchi, Noda and the others, when they'd heard two squeaky-voiced first years raving about their maths lesson that morning. "… so much better when Maruyama-sensei's there, right?" the first one was saying.

"It's more fun," agreed the other one. "Takano says the reason they're always kidding around with each other is because they're sleeping together."

"No way! How did he find out?"

The second one rolled his eyes. "He didn't _find out_, dumbass. Takano says you can tell from their body language. He says Maruyama-sensei's definitely screwing her."

"Oi!" Uchi had yelled hotly. "What the hell are you kids saying?"

"Yeah, haven't you ever heard of _libel_?" Noda sneered. Shin wanted to correct him and tell him that he meant 'slander', but it wasn't really the right time.

The two first years, already nervous at the sight of five tall, intimidating third years crowding around them, just shook their heads.

"It's where you say something about someone that isn't true," Minami explained smugly. "It's _illegal._ You can go to jail for it."

"Shut up about Yankumi and that guy," Kuma had said, glaring down at them. "You don't know what you're talking about."

The younger boys hadn't had the courage to argue; they just made a high-pitched wibbling sound of agreement and ran away. But the rumours had persisted.

It was because of these rumours that they didn't believe the story about the date when they first heard it.

"Man," Noda complained, coming into the classroom in a bad mood one morning. "Why do I keep hearing this same old thing about Yankumi and Maruyama dating? Those kids won't let it go!"

"Tell me about it," Uchi scowled. "I had to rough up a couple of idiots in the hall yesterday because they wouldn't shut up about it."

An unlucky first year had the grave misfortune to trot obliviously past the open classroom door at that moment. "Oi, Matsudaira," said Minami lazily, "go grab that first year, will you?"

Matsudaira obeyed, disappearing through the door and returning only a few seconds later, dragging the young boy by his collar to the front of the class.

Shin watched, ready to intervene if they got violent.

"You guys are spreading lies about our teacher," Uchi accused. "Stop it, or we'll beat the crap out of you."

_Subtle,_ Shin thought.

"They're not lies," said the boy bravely, although the effect of his bold words was undone by his quivering bottom lip. "They really _are_ going on a date."

Uchi beckoned to Matsudaira, who picked the kid up and started carrying him towards Uchi.

"No!" the boy wailed, wriggling furiously. "It's true, I swear. Maruyama-sensei told us himself!"

Matsudaira put him down abruptly.

The class was still.

"_What?_" Noda hissed.

"Really," the kid insisted, edging nervously towards the door. "In physics yesterday, he told us he's taking her out to dinner tonight."

Shin's heart met his ribcage with a sickening thud_._ _Tonight?_ She hadn't said anything to him. Then again, they hadn't had much of a chance to talk since their meeting on the roof a few days ago.

"No way," Minami muttered.

The boy had reached the door, and escaped unnoticed.

"Why would she go out with _him_?" said Uchi, sounding disgusted.

"Maybe he's blackmailing her," suggested Horibe.

"Or," Chikamatsu countered, "she's worried about dying an old maid, so she's just settling for him."

"She's not _that_ old," said Noda generously. "I mean, she's got at least another couple of years before she's over the hill."

"She's being an idiot," Uchi grumbled. "Going out with a pain in the ass like him… what's she thinking?"

Shin gazed curiously at Uchiyama. He was being unusually vocal about this. In fact, of their whole class, he was the one who seemed to dislike Maruyama the most. It made Shin suspicious… but now wasn't the time to talk about it.

"Let's ask her later," he said, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Maybe it's not what we're thinking."

* * *

While the boys of 3-D were pondering Yamaguchi Kumiko and her romantic exploits, the woman herself was sat at her desk in the faculty room doing some deep thinking of her own.

Maruyama had cornered her yesterday afternoon in the faculty room and said, not bothering to keep his voice down, "I know it's short notice, but I managed to get a reservation at L'Auberge for tomorrow for our date. Is that okay?"

Better to get it over and done with, she'd thought, so she'd said, "Sure, that's fine."

She'd done her best to stand firm and not blush under the stares of the other teachers – who had been eavesdropping quite openly – but naturally, Fujiyama had cornered her a few minutes later and demanded details.

Kumiko had subsequently discovered that Fujiyama suffered from selective deafness. She appeared not to hear any of the words, "It's just one date, and I don't plan on going out with him again."

"What are you _wearing_?" she wanted to know. "Is it sexy? It has to be sexy. I wonder how he got reservations at that place – it's supposed to have a six month waiting list."

And at the end of the school day, ignoring Kumiko's protests, Fujiyama had dragged her to do something that she loathed with a fiery passion.

Shopping for clothes.

Three excruciatingly painful hours later, she had escaped with a minor dent in her bank balance, and several heavy bags weighing her arms down.

"You have to _make an effort_," Fujiyama had thundered, smacking her fist against her palm. "You are a _woman_. Even if you don't like the guy, it is imperative that you show yourself at your very best."

It figured, Kumiko thought as she was yanked forcefully into the changing room, that _this_ would be the one thing to get Fujiyama-sensei fired up.

She had been poked, prodded and practically molested in that cubicle; it had made her hot and bothered, but in the end she had won her battle against Fujiyama – she hadn't had to buy any of the slutty, low-cut mini-dresses that _she_ had recommended.

The dress she had eventually bought was not exactly her _first_ choice – in fact, she had headed straight for the kimonos, and was tackled to the ground by Fujiyama – but it was the only one she'd seen that she'd been happy with.

"Oh," Fujiyama had said, surprised, when Kumiko had put it on. "So you're _not_ totally flat." And she made the universally-recognised gesture for 'boobs'.

Kumiko had scowled, smoothing the soft black material over her stomach.

"It's… long," Fujiyama had continued, a faint note of disapproval tingeing her voice.

"It's supposed to be." She folded her arms across her chest. "I like this one."

Fujiyama narrowed her eyes. "It's not the sexiest dress in the world –"

Kumiko set her jaw stubbornly.

"– but I guess it'll do. You could always cut a couple of slits up the sides, you know," she suggested hopefully. "Show a bit of leg…"

Kumiko ignored her, disappearing back into the cubicle to take the dress off. It was formal enough for L'Auberge, she supposed – Fujiyama had told her that the restaurant was supposed to be incredibly classy and expensive.

She slid the thin straps off her shoulders, tugging the zip down and letting the dress pool at her feet. Best of all, the material was light and fluid – if she had to make a quick escape, she could.

That had been the previous evening.

Now she was sitting at her desk in the faculty room between classes, wondering how on earth she was supposed to get through a date with a man she hadn't wanted to go out with in the first place.

Still. Maruyama was at least her friend – until now, conversation with him had been fairly easy and relaxed. As long as things didn't get awkward, it would be fine. They would talk, they would eat, and then she would go home. And that would be the end of it.

She smiled, already feeling relieved. _It'll be fine._

The thought buoyed her spirits for the rest of the day, until it was time for 3-D's class. She grinned as she approached the classroom; for no particular reason, she really wanted to see her boys.

But as she discovered when she pushed the door open, 'her boys' apparently did not return the sentiment.

She could sense immediately that they were in one of their worse moods; there was a tense, fractured atmosphere that she usually associated with Maruyama-sensei. A number of them watched her with annoyed frowns as she came into the room.

"Good afternoon," she said carefully. "What's up with you guys?"

For a few moments, there was only silence. Then Noda sat up a bit straighter.

"Oi, Yankumi," said Noda, looking annoyed. "Are you really going out with Maruyama?"

She gaped at them. "Wh – What? How did you - ?" She shot a quick glance at Shin, who shook his head imperceptibly. _Hmph. _Allegedly _he_ hadn't been the one to tell on her. "It's just one date," she explained hastily. "It's not like you're making it sound."

Uchi was scowling horribly. "What the hell, Yankumi? You're seriously gonna date a guy like that?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "I – I don't even know where to _start_. First of all, what do you mean, 'a guy like that'? Actually – " she shook her head " – that's not important." She went to shut the door, checking the corridor first, and then coming further into the classroom to say in a low voice, "Look, I agreed to a date. But Maruyama-sensei and I will not be _dating_. That's all."

They did not appear to be mollified by this clarification.

She gritted her teeth and glared at them. "For crying out loud! I can't believe that twenty-six young men like you can't find anything better to talk about than your _teacher's_ love life! This isn't important at all."

If anything, this raised their ire even more. They began to get restless, and Uchi looked as though he might leap out of his seat and start shouting.

"Look," she said evenly, attempting to calm them, "it's one date. I hardly get asked out all the time – you guys would be the first to say that, right?" They shifted uncomfortably. "So don't make a fuss, okay?" She tried to grin brightly. "It'll probably be about ten years before I get asked out again, anyway."

There was only a grim silence.

Sighing inwardly, she hefted her large textbook onto the desk in front of her. "All right, you guys, open your books to page – " She broke off abruptly, frowning as she stared at the class. "There's someone missing. Where's Maeda?"

A number of them turned to look at Maeda's empty seat.

"He was in this morning," said Horibe, sounding puzzled. "His bag's still here, too."

Kumiko was just wondering whether to try calling him on his cell phone when the door opened and Maeda stumbled in, half bent at the waist and wincing in pain.

She was by his side almost instantly, supporting his weight and guiding him to his seat. "Maeda," she whispered, fear and concern lacing her voice, "what happened?"

He grimaced, and she saw that his left eye was swollen. He was half-cradling his abdomen, and she knew he must have been punched or kicked there. His lip was bleeding and his knuckles were red and swollen as well. "Meibi High guys," he rasped. "They called me out. I tried… but there were too many…"

"Bastards," she hissed, hardly thinking. "Why would they do this?"

A few of the others glanced at each other, and one of them – Yagyuu – was nudged forward. "Uh… I got caught by some Meibi High students, too. A couple of nights ago, on my way home. But we got spotted by some old guy – he started yelling, and I ran. They would have done me up good, though, I know it."

There was a heavy pause.

Then a low moan came from the desk in front of Maeda's. Chikamatsu had buried his head in his hands. "I'm sorry…" he said faintly.

"Chikamatsu…" said Kumiko softly. "What is it?"

He half turned, unable to look anyone in the eye. "I – I got beat up by them last week. I think that maybe this is my fault."

"Why would it be _your_ fault?" she asked, puzzled.

He swallowed. "Because… my girlfriend… she's from Meibi. And I think those guys are from her class. One of them might be her ex-boyfriend. And now…" he groaned, "they're targeting all of you guys. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be an idiot," said Yagyuu lightly. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah," Maeda agreed. "We don't mind getting beaten up if at least one of us gets a girlfriend."

Kumiko's hands were clenched into fists. "What the hell are they playing at?" she muttered angrily. She stood and began to pace the room. "Believe me, I really want to go straight to that school right now and confront those assholes. But I think we all know how that could turn out."

"They'd never believe us," Noda spat. "We're from _Shirokin_."

"We need hard evidence," Kumiko smacked one hand against the other. "Irrefutable proof." She gave them a sharp look. "But listen to me – don't go looking for them, okay? You could get yourselves hurt, and it won't help the situation."

Minami half-stood, "But we can't just sit back and do nothing!"

"I'll think of something," she promised. "I'm asking you guys not to go running off in the meantime. I _will_ come up with a plan, okay?"

Uchi glared at her. "Don't bother, Yankumi," he sneered. "You've got your date to think about, right? So don't trouble yourself thinking about us."

She stared at him in shock. "Uchi –"

Noda wasn't looking at her; he slouched down in his seat and scowled at the floor. "Uchi's right. You've got other things on your mind – we don't need your help."

Kumiko felt herself actually trembling with rage, every muscle in her body tightening like an over-stretched guitar string. She was going to snap any moment now…

Noda was still talking. "So go get ready for your stupid date –"

That was it.

"Will you _shut up_ about my fucking date!" she exploded. "Why do you even care? Half the time you barely listen to me – hell, half the time you don't even _like_ me, so why the hell do you give a shit who I date?" Anger was making her blood roar in her ears. "Ugh, I need to think. And clearly I can't do that here, so…" she gestured vaguely at their books, "just study by yourselves, will you?" She stalked furiously to the door and wrenched it open, too livid to even look back at them as she walked out, hearing the door slam shut behind her.

* * *

In the classroom, there was only stunned silence.

Yankumi had never, _ever_ turned her back on them in anger before.

Shin didn't think he'd ever seen that kind of rage on her face. He was battling with every ounce of strength he had not to go running after her; right now, he thought, she probably needed to be alone.

"Do you…" Uchi began weakly, pausing and beginning again, "do you think she really believes that? That we don't like her?"

There was no reply.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I stole the name 'L'Auberge' from an episode of House. Apparently it means 'The Inn' (although I never studied French so I can't be sure; in fact, for a while I thought it might mean 'The Aubergine').


	12. Chapter 11

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Crikey. In view of the fact that I had planned to update much sooner than this (believe me), and that I want to get this story finished before my final exams in June, I am going to upload two chapters this week. Look out for Chapter Twelve in a couple of days! (It's almost done, just needs a little tweaking.)

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Her fury eclipsed everything else.

It made her heart run wild, it made her arms and legs shake, and it took away every other feeling she had in her.

_I am no longer a person,_ she thought. _I am just anger in a human body._

She knew that at the beginning, they had doubted her. They had thought she was like all the other teachers they'd ever known; that she would fail them, time and time again, and eventually would walk away from them altogether because leaving was easier than staying and trying to do something to improve the situation.

Except, of course, she hadn't left.

She'd stood next to them and defended them, believed in them when no-one else would, fought for them, shed blood, sweat and tears for them. She'd done all of that because she was their teacher, but more than that, because she fucking _loved_ those boys like they were her own family.

The pain she felt when she realised that none of that mattered to them – that they still doubted her, and thought she was like all the rest, that all that time had been _wasted…_

It had crushed her. In the women's bathroom, safe inside a locked cubicle, the hot tears had poured down her cheeks as she stifled her sobs with her hand.

It had never mattered that they didn't like her, or that they thought she was weird, or even that their respect was hard to gain and never seemed to last long. None of that had been important. The only thing she had ever wanted was their trust.

She'd thought that, if nothing else, at least she had that.

But she'd been wrong. And it fucking _hurt_.

It was later, after all the tears had been shed, that the anger had come back – stronger and darker than she'd ever known it. It made her feel unbalanced and out of control.

It made her feel like she was losing her mind.

She loved her boys, but at that moment she really wanted to beat the crap out of them. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to make them see how much time and energy she had used up just for them, because she cared about them.

But the thing that she wanted most of all was to see Sawada Shin.

Because in a weird, distinctly un-teacher-like way, she felt as though if she could see him and talk to him, she might just be able to stay sane after all.

_Maybe I do love him,_ she thought hazily through the fog of anger and misery clouding her mind – and felt utterly astonished when she realised that the idea wasn't as appalling as it once would have been.

* * *

After she'd gone, they'd sat in stagnant silence, wallowing in their frustration and guilt. No-one had been able to think of anything useful to say, and Shin thought that if he opened his mouth he would only have ended up yelling at them anyway.

Truth be told, he was more than a little angry at himself – he ought to have spoken up sooner. He'd assumed that the others would take out their ire on Maruyama, not Yankumi. Certainly not like that – the bitter, angry sniping of jealous children.

He felt a pang of guilt as he remembered the brief glimpse of hurt he'd seen in her eyes as she turned away from them.

He might not have been one of the boys who'd attacked her, but he hadn't done anything to stop them, either.

He suppressed a sigh. Something like this could really, seriously mess up the class dynamic. If they apologised, she would probably forgive them, but for all he knew, this could have lasting damage.

While he was considering this, it became clear that something else was going on.

A large part of the class had started to huddle together on one side of the room, muttering and whispering amongst themselves. From within the huddle, Horibe stuck his head out and gestured to Uchi. Uchi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hesitating for a few seconds before apparently giving in and traipsing miserably towards the group.

Noda followed a few minutes later.

Shin exchanged puzzled, suspicious glances with Minami and Kuma. He could see Chikamatsu at the centre of the huddle, gesturing and drawing outlines of something with his fingers in the air. He frowned, his eyes narrowed and alert. He had a very distinct feeling that whatever they were up to, it couldn't be good. And he definitely didn't think that it had anything to do with apologising to Yankumi.

* * *

In the end, she had left 3-D alone for the entire period, then gone to do the last class of the day with 3-A. Her anger had hardly abated, however, and she didn't bother going to do the register when the school day was over. She somehow thought that if she did, she would end up saying things she would later regret.

"Come on," Fujiyama tapped her shoulder. "Let's go."

She'd agreed to go to Fujiyama's apartment before the date, as it served several purposes all at once – one, it meant that she could agree to be picked up by Maruyama without worrying that she'd have to explain her not-quite-normal house, and two, Fujiyama had agreed to do her hair for her (since she had correctly predicted that, if left to her own devices, Kumiko would simply blast it with a hairdryer and leave it at that).

Also… Kumiko didn't really _mind_ Fujiyama all that much. And she supposed that it was probably good for her to have at least one female friend.

Of course, she hadn't realised that Fujiyama considered the words 'beauty treatment' to be synonymous with 'torture'.

"Ow, ow, _owww!_" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing back there?"

"I am – ugh – doing you a favour," Fujiyama grunted. "And a big one, too. How do you manage to brush your hair with all these knots?"

"There's nothing wrong with a few knots," Kumiko muttered defensively.

"This is not 'a few'," Fujiyama snapped. "My God, woman, you need a whole team of people to sort this mess out."

For all of Fujiyama's snippy comments, however, she managed to tame Kumiko's hair in a matter of minutes. She spent a while playing around with it, trying to pin it up or style it, and each time undoing her handiwork with a frustrated sigh.

"Just leave it loose," Kumiko suggested for the millionth time, but she was once again ignored.

Then the curling tongs came out, and Kumiko began to think that she would have preferred the awkward conversation with Maruyama about her family instead of this _hell_.

By the time Maruyama arrived, she'd had her ears burned with the tongs at least three times ("No, you do not need to go to the hospital," Fujiyama had barked. "Now shut up and put the dress on."), but she could grudgingly accept that her hair looked decent, and she'd escaped with the bare minimum of make-up.

"Remember," Fujiyama hissed as she opened the front door, "be sexy!" And then she was unceremoniously shoved out of the apartment.

"Hi," said Maruyama pleasantly. He looked her over appreciatively, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "You look wonderful."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you. You, uh… you look nice, too."

"Thanks." He offered her his arm. "Ready to go?"

"Sure." She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling a little awkward. _Just a couple of hours,_ she reminded herself. _Then it'll be over._

She discovered, during the journey to the restaurant, that Maruyama had secured a reservation by means of 'a friend of a friend'.

"You're well-connected, aren't you?" she observed. "First the cinema, now this. Is there something I should know?"

"Like…"

"Like, you're secretly of royal blood?"

His lips twitched. "Ah, you found out. I'd hoped you never would." He feigned a wistful sigh. "I just want to live a normal life, you know?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." She felt the knots loosen in her stomach, and her sense of unease began to dissipate. This was how it was _supposed_ to be – friendly banter between the two of them. If it could be as relaxed as this for the rest of their date, she thought she might even enjoy the evening.

At the restaurant they were shown to a beautiful table on the terrace, hidden from view by the low branches of the maple trees. The red-gold leaves rustled in the light breeze, and she could smell the faint scent of the flowers blooming on the ground nearby, tough little perennials blooming even with winter just around the corner. She didn't bother to hide the fact that she was impressed.

The maitre d' came to greet Maruyama personally, having apparently met him a number of times before (presumably through the 'friend of a friend'). He smiled knowingly at Kumiko when Maruyama introduced her, and made vague statements about romance, and moonlight, and "the smell of love on the autumn air." Kumiko smiled politely and held her tongue, but Maruyama joined in on a similar wavelength, talking about how it was "a beautiful night to be shared with someone special" and so on until she wanted to crawl under the table and hide there for the rest of the night.

Finally the maitre d' went away – with a promise to send his violinist over to serenade them later – and she tried to push past the embarrassment she felt by bringing the menu up in front of her face and pretending to find it extremely interesting.

"The fish looks good," she said lamely. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, I think so too. But I'm surprised – I thought you'd have the steak. Weren't you completely carnivorous back at university?"

She laughed in spite of herself. "Yeah, I guess I was. Did you used to think that was weird?"

He grinned. "No, not really. It was other things that I found weird."

"Other things?" she repeated, half-curious, half-worried. "Like… what?"

His smirk was decidedly evil. "Like, the words you sometimes say when you're all fired up – the ones that make you sound like you just stepped out of a Yakuza movie or something. And the random singing. Those things were weird."

She went back to hiding behind her menu. "Well, they make sense to me."

"Which makes them even weirder." His eyes sparkled with gentle mirth. "But don't worry. Your weirdness just makes you... intriguing."

She was incredibly grateful to the waiter for choosing to arrive at that exact moment and giving her an excuse to ignore what Maruyama had just said. Unfortunately, once their order had been taken, the waiter confiscated their menus – leaving her with nothing to hide behind.

"How's your little sister?" she asked, in an attempt to shift the focus onto him. "She was at university in Hokkaido, right?"

"She still is," he told her, pouring a healthy amount of wine into her glass – it was a 1990 Barolo, whatever _that_ meant; the maitre d' had sent it over with a red rose tied to the neck of the bottle with a thin crimson ribbon. "She's in her final year now. She wants to go and study abroad next year."

She took a sip of the wine. "Has she decided what she wants to do in life?"

"Well, she's been talking about writing a book about the Aztecs or something – I don't know exactly, but I think she wants to do some kind of expedition in the future."

She smiled fondly. "Well, say hi from me next time you talk to her."

"Actually, I spoke to her a couple of days ago," he said sheepishly. "I was telling her all about how you and I are teaching together now. She thinks it's great." He glanced at her awkwardly. "I told her about the date, too. I hope that's okay."

"Um, yeah, that's okay." But her heart sank and she felt the nagging worry start to return. She'd just wanted to get through this and have it be over. But if other people knew, then there would be expectations. They would ask questions. They would want to know why they weren't going out again, and all sorts of other personal, embarrassing things.

"Kumiko-san," Maruyama was saying, "I've been meaning to talk to you – about this date, about our relationship…"

_Oh, no_. She sucked in a breath, horrified. She'd hoped they could avoid this topic if possible.

"Did Aiko-san ever tell you why we broke up?" he asked abruptly.

She stared at him, taken aback. "Um… what?" Aiko had been the friend at university who had introduced her to Maruyama in the first place – she had dated him for a couple of months, and then they had broken up in mysterious circumstances. "No – she never talked about it. Why?"

He glanced at her, barely meeting her eyes. "I broke up with Aiko-san because… because I liked you more."

Her hand, wrapped around her wine glass, went slack for a moment, and the glass tipped precariously. It would have slipped altogether if she hadn't regained control and set it firmly down on the table. "Maruyama-sensei – I mean, Takumi-san – I need to be clear about something." She took a deep breath, feeling a growing sense of relief as she prepared to be completely honest with him, once and for all.

Her phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the silence, startling them both.

But what startled her even more was the name on the display. 'Sawada Shin.'

* * *

Yankumi had not returned to 3-D's classroom for the rest of the day, and Shin could hardly say he was surprised. He'd still stuck around, though, waiting to see if she would at least stick her head in if only to do the register after the last period.

The rest of the students – the ones who'd huddled together and started plotting something – had grown more and more restless with each passing minute, perched on the edges of their seats and looking as though they might leap up at any moment. Shin had expected them to leave well before the end of the last class – History, with the twitchy and boring Washio – but they stuck it out. When the bell rand, signalling that the class was over, he waited for them to stand up, grab their bags, and make a hasty departure.

Still they did not.

As the minutes passed, and it became clear that Yankumi wasn't coming, he realised something – they, like him, were waiting for her. They were hoping that she would return… and he watched them deflate slowly like leaky balloons as the door remained persistently shut.

The final bell rang, and Shin was the first to move. He, Minami and Kuma seemed to be some of the only students who hadn't been included in the rest of the class's plans, and as they walked together out of the school, they were finally able to discuss the subject openly. "You think it's got anything to do with Yankumi?" Kuma asked first.

"No," Shin replied, hands deep in his pockets. "No, I think this is something else."

"It's got to be related to the Meibi High guys," Minami muttered. "They were pretty pissed off about it."

The three of them lapsed into silence as they thought about this.

Minami was right, Shin thought. For as long as he'd known his classmates, they had always been easily provoked and prone to rash decisions in these situations. They would want to go and get revenge – and unfortunately, their argument with Yankumi had probably put them in a worse state of mind. Anger alone was bad enough, Shin had learnt in the past, but anger and guilt could be a nasty combination. Guilt had a way of making you feel as though you'd already done something bad, so how could anything else make things worse?

There was something else nagging at his mind… a faint feeling of having forgotten something. He couldn't place it, but it felt important. What the hell was it?

"Man, Yankumi was really steamed, huh?" Kuma broke the silence, attempting to sound cheerful and failing. "I've never seen her like that before."

"You think she'll get over it?" Minami asked.

Shin looked up to find them both watching him, waiting for an answer. "What's that look for?" he muttered. "How would I know?"

Kuma shrugged. "You seem to understand her pretty well. Aren't you guys kinda friendly, or something?"

Shin had had no idea that anyone else had even noticed his relationship with Yankumi, let alone formed an opinion on it. He supposed he should be grateful that no-one had realised that his feelings ran any deeper.

Minami's eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Oi, Shin, don't tell me that you and she are…?" He left the rest unsaid, lifting his two index fingers and pressing them together to look like a kissing couple.

Shin suppressed a groan. _Fantastic._ "_No,_ you idiot. And… yeah, I think she'll get over it, eventually. But if those guys do something, and they get into trouble – well, she's not going to be thrilled about it, you know?"

The other two made noises of agreement. Just as Shin was breathing a quiet sigh of relief that he had dodged a potentially very awkward bullet, he heard two familiar voices some distance behind them.

Uchi and Noda.

He stopped to wait for them, and Minami and Kuma came to join him. He noticed that Uchi wasn't talking much at all; he walked with his head down and his shoulders hunched, and he looked utterly miserable. Noda didn't seem much better. Neither of them noticed their observers until they were right up close – too late to split off from the path without it looking deliberate.

"Hi," said Shin mildly. "What's up?"

They scuffed their feet awkwardly. "Nothin'." Noda muttered eventually. "Why?"

"No reason." He gave them a friendly smile. "Want to go to the café?"

"No, we've got –" Uchi began, but Noda kicked him sharply in the ankle and he yelped. "Uh, I mean… we were just going home. Maybe some other time."

"Sure," Shin replied pleasantly. He waved. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Uh-huh." They shuffled away, Uchi casting nervous glances back at Shin.

"Well, that was pointless," remarked Minami.

Shin, staring after the two departing boys, disagreed. "Uchi's our way in," he said. "He definitely wants to tell us, even if Noda and the others don't. I think we'll be able to get more out of him if we try."

"What I want to know is, why aren't they letting _us_ in on it?" Minami muttered, sounding offended. "It's not like we haven't all been in fights together before."

Shin didn't answer. He was still staring after Uchi, wondering what his next move should be.

* * *

In the end, he didn't have to make a move at all.

He'd parted ways with Minami and Kuma, gone home and spent a while just sitting on the couch thinking – about Yankumi, about her date, and about 3-D. Finally he'd put the kettle on to boil water for his usual evening meal – ramen – and while he was trying not to dwell on the fact that right now, Yankumi would be sitting down at a fancy restaurant with someone who had made it _very_ clear what he wanted from her.

Would she think of _him_, even once, this evening?

Or would she be wined, dined and seduced?

He ripped the lid off the ramen pot with more force than necessary. He wished, for the millionth time, that she'd just said no in the first place. All of this stress was going to give him a stomach ulcer or something.

Not to mention that feeling he'd had earlier – the nagging, pestering one that had bothered him all the way home and was still going strong even now. Maybe he was losing his mind…

He was just pouring the water into the plastic packet when his phone rang. He kept the kettle steady and reached into his pocket with his other hand, glancing down at the name on the display. "Hey, Uchi," he answered, trapping the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled a pair of chopsticks out of the drawer. "What's up?"

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line. Then Uchi said, "Shin. I need to tell you something."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I'm at my place. You want to come over?"

"I can't, I…" he hesitated. "I'm meeting the others in ten minutes. Shin – we're going after the Meibi guys. Chikamatsu found out where they hang out, and we're going to settle this tonight."

Shin set the chopsticks down, ramen forgotten. "You're going tonight? _Why?_"

_Meibi High._ The niggling feeling – it was something to do with that school, he knew it.

"Shin, they beat up three people from our class. We can't take this lying down – we have to do something. And besides…" A sigh whispered from the earpiece. "Yankumi's occupied tonight. We don't have to worry about her interfering."

"Uchi, do you know _anything_ about those guys other than where they hang out? Like, how many of them there are? Or whether they fight with knives?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, it's not like I don't understand why you want to do this – I'm just saying you should wait instead of rushing in tonight."

"It's too late. We already decided." Uchi sounded half-apologetic, half-resigned. "The others – they didn't want me to tell you guys because they thought you'd try to stop us, or tell Yankumi. But I wanted to at least give you the address… in case you want to come help us."

"Uchi –"

"It's in Shinkawa, near the Eitai Bridge. The warehouse by the fish yard. You know where I mean?"

"Yeah, but Uchi –"

"I'm on my way there now. So is everyone else. See you later, Shin." And the line went dead as he hung up.

Shin sighed, frowning down at the phone in his hand.

He had less than ten minutes to decide what to do.

_Damn it._ If they hadn't had that fight with Yamaguchi, they wouldn't have been so tightly-wound this afternoon, and maybe this wouldn't be happening. He'd never liked the idea that they relied on her to save their asses, but it would be a lot better than going into a situation blind, ready to fight some jealous bastard and who knew how many goons –

Wait. That was it – _Meibi High!_ Why the hell hadn't he remembered before?

One quick call to the operator, followed by endless ringing, and he was connected to a kid he never thought he'd speak to again. "Tennouji Ryu?" he asked, barely pausing for breath. "This is Sawada Shin."

There was a brief silence, and then, "You mean, Sawada from Shirokin?"

"That's the one. Listen, I don't have much time – what can you tell me about a guy in the senior class at Meibi? He used to date a girl called…" he racked his brain for the name of Chikamatsu's girlfriend "Kyouko? Or Kahoko, maybe?"

"Kanako?" Ryu sounded worried. "She was dating Sasaki Osamu – and let me tell you, you do not want to mess with a guy like _him_."

_Crap._ "Why, what's he like?"

"A thief, a bully and a thug," Ryu replied succinctly. "When I was still there, I heard a rumour that he'd stabbed some guy for looking at him funny."

It got worse and worse. "So, he carries a knife, then?"

"Hey, I can only tell you what I've heard. I've never really met the guy, so I guess I'm the lucky one. Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"Long story," Shin said curtly. "I'll tell you about it another time." He hung up abruptly; no doubt Ryu was spitting and cursing at the other end, but that didn't matter right now.

He grabbed his jacket, and as he headed out the front door, he thumbed the keypad on his phone, dialling the one number he'd wanted to call all afternoon.

And several miles away, in a classy French restaurant, Yamaguchi Kumiko's phone began to ring.

* * *

**Author's Note:** To come – one fight in a warehouse, one fight in the street. Good times…


	13. Chapter 12

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Hopefully the swiftness of this chapter makes up for the lateness of the last one. It's also fairly long, so maybe that counts as well? Happy reading…

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

"The others," he'd said. "They're going to confront the Meibi High guys. Now, tonight. They're making a big mistake. Yankumi…" His tone was desperate, pleading. "I need your help. _We_ need your help."

So now she was running.

Wasn't this how it always was? Wasn't this how it was _supposed to be_? Running – in a tracksuit, in her jeans, in an expensive black dress and high-heeled shoes. She was always on her toes, always chasing someone halfway across the city because they messed with the wrong guy, never stopping to catch a breath, never thinking that this should be someone else's job – they were _her_ fucking students, weren't they?

Why had she ever thought that Maruyama would understand that?

"Kumiko-san?" he'd said, puzzled and surprised, when she leapt from her seat. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's 3-D," she explained, reaching down and grabbing the small bag she'd brought with her. "They're in trouble." She stared down at the bag – it was only going to weigh her down. "Maruyama-sensei, would you look after this for me? You can give it back to me at school on Monday."

"Kumiko-san…" This time he sounded incredulous. "You're not actually going to _leave_, are you?"

"Of course I am. They need me." She tucked her phone into her bra, ignoring the way the colour rose to his face. "I'm sorry, sensei, but I really need to leave _now._"

She'd started to walk away, already wondering how she was going to fight in this dress, when he called after her, "But – this is a date! You can't just –"

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, pausing at the French doors that led back into the restaurant. "I really am."

He'd just sat there dumbly, watching her go.

Several blocks away, as her lungs were screaming for oxygen and she was mentally repeating the address she'd been given, it occurred to her that if she had been on a date with _Shin_, he would not have watched her leave. He would have stood up and run alongside her.

'_Does that make him the idiot or me?'_ she wondered.

Maybe it was both of them.

She saw him long before he saw her, when she was still at one end of the street and he was at the other leaning against a wall, Minami and Kuma nearby with a couple of the other guys from their class – Mouri and Hattori, she thought, although it was difficult to tell at this distance.

Kuma caught sight of her first, looking up and staring, head tilted to one side as though he had no idea what he was seeing. Understandable, after all – not many women made a habit of sprinting down streets dressed up to the nines. The others followed his line of sight, and she saw Shin push himself away from the wall abruptly, his jaw dropping.

She slowed to a walk when she got closer, breathing deeply as her heart thudded against her ribcage. "Hi," she panted. "Sorry I took so long. I would have been here sooner if I'd had my own damn car."

"Yankumi…" Minami muttered, his gaze skating over her from head to toe. Apparently he couldn't think of anything else to say after that.

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at an empty-looking warehouse – of _course_ it was a warehouse; these kids didn't have the slightest bit of imagination – and said, "Are they in there?"

"Yeah," Shin replied, his voice sounding strangely choked. "We saw them ahead of us – they got here a few minutes ago. We're going in, right?"

"Uh-huh." She looked down at herself and cursed the day she'd ever allowed Fujiyama to have any influence over her dress sense. This dress was hell to run in, let alone _fight_… But as she remembered that day they'd gone shopping, she was struck with an idea. "Any of you guys have a knife?"

Kuma's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You're not gonna - ?"

"_Stab_ them?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Thanks," she said to Hattori who had just handed her his Swiss Army knife. "I'm just making use of one of Fujiyama's fashion tips, that's all." And she bent down, grasping the hem of her dress, and hacked a jagged slit up each side. "_Much_ better." She handed the knife back to Hattori. "At least now I can actually kick someone's ass if necessary."

As she strode briskly towards the warehouse, she became aware that her feet were absolutely _killing_ her. What she wanted most was to take her ridiculous shoes off, but fighting in the dress was going to be bad enough – fighting barefoot would put her at a definite disadvantage.

Shin fell into step next to her. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. Their mutual understanding had been unspoken for as long as she could remember.

The door of the warehouse was already wide open, and she had to pause for a few seconds once inside to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. Ahead was another doorway, this one covered with a curtain of thick plastic strips which hung down from an old, rusty metal bar. She gestured silently for the others to follow as she slipped between the strips.

She heard the brawl before she saw it – a cacophony of shouts, curses and pained grunts.

Unfortunately, her boys had found themselves on the losing end of this fight. They weren't exactly outnumbered – they were facing off against maybe fifteen others… but the fifteen were armed with the popular modern thug's weapon of choice: heavy lead pipes. And most of 3-D were already on the ground, spitting out their own blood.

"Oi!" she yelled hotly, marching forward, her hands forming fists. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

They turned to stare at her, halting mid-punch and mid-kick. She saw Noda slump to the ground; behind him, Shimazu was doubled over following a blow to the stomach. None of her students seemed to be uninjured, which enraged her all the more. "I asked you a question!" she bellowed, her eyes searching for whichever punk was likely to be the leader.

A tall, thin boy stepped forward, his fingers wrapped loosely around a pipe. A few seconds ago, she'd seen him swing that pipe at Chikamatsu's midsection. _Bastard._ "Pretty women shouldn't be in places like these," he advised her. "I'd leave, if I were you."

"Oh, okay," she said lightly. "I'll go right ahead and do that." Naturally she did nothing of the sort.

The tall boy glared at her, irritated. He swung the pipe idly in front of him as he came towards her. "Listen, bitch, I'm_ busy_. So piss off, will you? I don't mind hitting a woman." He leered at her. "Among other things."

She rolled her eyes. "For crying out loud… look, they're my students, so will you just hand them over so we can all go home?"

The boy stared at her in disbelief. "You're their _teacher_?"

She sighed. Clearly this was going to take a lot longer than she'd thought. "Yes, I'm their teacher. You guys are from Meibi High, right? Look, you've obviously got an issue with my class, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave them alone. You've done enough, don't you think?"

He let out a small huff of laughter. "You want me to let them go? Just like that?"

"Pretty much." She met his gaze firmly. "Well?"

"Forget it." He sneered at her, leaning down so that his face was close to hers, his breath ghosting across her cheeks. "So get out of here before I decide to play with you, too." And he moved forward, his lips bumping her nose in what she supposed was meant to be a kiss.

_Yuck._ Hardly thinking, she drew back her arm and drove her fist into his stomach. It was a move she'd perfected during her teenage years, when some of the old uncles who visited her grandfather had thought they could treat her like the girls at Yasue's club.

Tall boy fell to his knees, wheezing. The pipe dropped out of his slack hand. "Obviously they don't teach you _manners_ at your school," she muttered. She looked past him at the others. "Do the smart thing," she told them. "Leave now."

A bulky kid with a red bandanna began steamrolling towards her, pipe in hand. He swung it up, preparing to bring it crashing down on her head, but she was more than prepared – honestly, could these kids _be_ any more predictable? She caught the pipe above her head, wrenching it out of his grip and tossing it behind her, barely hearing the metallic clang as it hit the floor. Red Bandanna grimaced, doing his best to land a punch on her face, but she dodged it easily and brought her stilettoed foot up to meet his groin.

He collapsed with a whimper, drawing his knees up to his chest. She eyed the remaining boys, who had started to move towards her en masse.

"Shin," she said over her shoulder. "Get the others out. _Don't_ fight with these guys – leave them to me."

She didn't know if he said anything in reply; she was forced to ignore everything but the dozens of feet and fists that were about to collide with her body. She felt the familiar, heady rush of adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream, charging her mind and muscles. This was her comfort zone, after all. If she could do nothing else in this life, she could at least fight.

And against a pathetic, brainless bunch like this?

The first punch missed her face by a mile and she smashed the heel of her hand into the guy's nose as he tried to regain his balance. He let out a groan, the sound distorted through the blood that gushed freely down his face.

_No problem._

She felt her face twist into a half-sneer, half-grin, and bit back an amused laugh when her next would-be attacker took one look at her and recoiled in horror. He hesitated a second too long, and was elbowed viciously out of the way by another Meibi boy, who charged towards her, apparently intending to take her down. She darted easily out of his way, turning to watch as his momentum carried him too far forward. He stumbled and fell, skidding along the concrete and yelping as his palms were skinned by the rough surface. He glared up at her. "Bitch," he spat. "You'll pay for that."

A hand gripped her arm tightly; she turned and found an angry, bruised face several inches from hers. She felt a surge of pride for whichever of her students had managed to defend himself against _this_ brute. "Nice dress," he leered at her. "Shame I'm gonna have to rip it a bit more."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm terrified."

He obviously didn't have a sarcasm radar, if the satisfied look on his face was anything to go by. "You should be."

_Oh, for crying out loud…_ She lifted her foot and drove her pointy, extremely sharp stiletto heel down onto the guy's toes.

He actually _screamed_, and his face contorted with rage and pain. His grip on her arm tightened, and she narrowed her eyes, lifting her hand and giving him a sharp pinch on the inside of his arm. He let her arm go as a reflex, and she immediately pulled away, using her new freedom to deliver a gratifying kick to his groin. As she replaced her foot on the floor, she sensed a presence behind her and, hardly thinking, she pivoted, her fist crashing into the jaw of the boy whose palms she'd indirectly skinned before.

"This is taking too long," she sighed, eyeing the few boys who were crawling away to lick their wounds. The rest still remained, giving her the evil eye and preparing to attack. "Let's speed it up, huh?"

They took her invitation at face value, running towards her with fists and pipes at the ready. Her heart raced and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears as she blocked and weaved and ducked out of their reach. She slammed her arm into the side of someone's head and watched him tumble to the floor. She wrenched a pipe out of one kid's hand and used it to block another, tossing it aside as soon as she could because _she_ wasn't as much of a coward as them.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Kuma picking one of her students up off the floor, and felt a brief rush of relief. At least they were staying out of it – and maybe if they were sensible, they'd get out of here.

_Of course_, she thought, as she literally kicked a guy's ass, _if they were sensible they wouldn't have come in the first place._

She began to lose count of how many Meibi boys were injured or had run away. She'd lost track of time, as well, and just as she was watching a brawny guy limp away (having felt the force of her stiletto like so many others), she realised that the only one left was the one she'd originally started with.

"Such a brave leader," she said, refusing to back down as he stalked towards her. "Letting everyone else do your fighting for you… I guess that way you don't get any ugly bruises on your face, right?"

He cracked his knuckles. "Just saving the best for last." He gave her a once-over, his eyes lingering in the vicinity of her cleavage. "It's not like I want to give _you_ any bruises either… but you know, there _is_ a way we can solve this without resorting to something like that, if you get my meaning…"

She couldn't hide her disgust. "Oh, for – you're kidding, right?"

The muscles in his jaw twitched and he leaned in closer. "Listen, bitch, you're lucky I'm giving you this chance. If you don't take it, I'll have to –"

"Have to what?" She couldn't repress a smirk. "In case you missed it, I got rid of your friends – most of whom are bigger than you – by myself. What makes you any different?"

He gave her a nasty grin, baring his teeth. "I don't have any _ugly bruises_ because most people don't try to argue with me. At least… not after they see _this_."

A flash of silver caught her eye as he withdrew his hand from his pocket.

A knife.

_Oh, shit._

Behind her, she heard a soft noise. "Yankumi," came Shin's voice, low and unsteady with barely-concealed panic.

If she'd been alone, she would have considered walking away and conceding defeat. It wouldn't have damaged her pride that much, after all, and everyone knew that it was considered a sensible move to back off if you were against someone who was armed.

With twenty-six other living, breathing souls to think about, however… Who was to say that Tall Boy wouldn't use that sharp, deadly blade on one of them instead?

"Looks nasty," she said, ignoring the way her heart rate was skyrocketing.

"It is." He flipped it casually between his fingers. "You sure you don't want to take me up on my offer?"

She shook her head. "You misunderstood. I was referring to _you_."

It took him several seconds to make the connection. "You stupid _bi_ –"

She wondered if she'd _ever_ moved that fast; as he was drawing back his arm, she caught his chin hard with a right hook and followed through with a powerful kick to his stomach. He fell to his knees, the knife dropping from his hand and clattering to the floor.

He picked it up again, still breathless, and clambered to his feet, staggering towards her with a vicious look on his face. She allowed him to swing his knife-bearing hand towards her, side-stepping at the last possible second and giving herself the opportunity to slam the edge of her palm up against his throat. As he fell, she turned and planted her foot firmly in the small of his back, digging in with her heel.

"Get the picture _now_, you idiot?" she snarled as he groaned.

Then, in the distance, she heard the faint but distinctive wail of sirens. _Oh, crap._

It seemed that the 3-D boys shared her opinion. They turned tail and ran, scrambling for the exit.

A gentle but firm hand tugged at her elbow. _Shin_.

"Come on," he urged, pulling her away from the guy. She kept a cautious eye on him as they walked away, but he appeared to have given up. They met the others outside and ran together, ducking through the back streets until they were in an emptier part of town, and then they slowed down to a walk.

She stopped briefly, bending down to tug off her shoes and hissing with sharp relief as her hot feet met the cool pavement. "Ah, that's better." She looked up to find that they'd all stopped to wait for her. Her shoes dangled from her fingers as she padded softly towards them. "I'm much shorter without those heels, huh?"

They didn't say anything.

She felt the slow burn of anger begin to rise in her chest again. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot that you're all a bunch of complete idiots!" She put her hands on her hips and glared at them. "What did I tell you _not_ to do? I said 'don't go rushing in'. So what did _you_ do?" She closed her eyes and let her head dip forward briefly. "You know, I don't care that you ignored me. I don't care that you got pissed off about my personal life. But what _really_ makes me angry is that you actually doubted me." She lifted her head. "How could you think that I'd prioritise a date above this? When have I ever let you down?"

There was still no reply.

She sighed, her free hand moving up to run through her hair. "You know what? I'm tired, I'm hungry, and my feet hurt. I'm going home. You'd better all be in school on Monday."

She'd only got a few steps away from them when Uchi's voice, small and unsteady, stopped her. "Yankumi," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." That was Noda. "I'm sorry too."

After that all she heard was a rumble of soft, overlapping apologies. She shook her head; what was the point in staying angry? They were good kids. They just did stupid things sometimes. And this wouldn't be the first time they'd doubted her, after all.

She turned back to them, a smile twisting her mouth. "I'll let you off. Just this once." As they sagged with visible relief, she raised her voice. "But you guys really need to start trusting me, okay? How long have I been teaching you –?"

"Yankumi," said Minami, surprised. "What are you talking about? We _do_ trust you."

"Right. That's why, when I said, 'I'll figure something out', you got all pissed off and went to confront those guys anyway." She gave them a patient look. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't have –"

"It's not that," Uchi cut her off. "Yeah, we were angry, but it was because of _that guy._"

"'That guy'," she repeated. "Who are you – _oh_."

Could they mean Maruyama?

She opened her mouth to ask, but behind her she heard the harsh squeal of car brakes as someone took the street corner too fast. She turned to see a familiar car speeding towards them, and then slowing down sharply, jerking to halt right next to them. The door opened, and Maruyama almost fell out. "Kumiko-san," he gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Maruyama-sensei, what are you doing here?" she asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"I was on my way home, but I heard it on the radio – on the local news – something about police arresting a group of high school kids involved in a fight. So I drove over to that area, and an old guy told me that he'd seen a load of kids and a woman running this way." He managed a half-smile. "He said the woman was wearing a pretty dress." The smile fell away as he noticed the ripped fabric. "What happened…?"

"Everything's fine." She grinned. "It must have been the Meibi kids that got arrested – serves those bastards right, too."

Maruyama glared at the boys. "What the hell were you _thinking_? Getting your teacher involved in something like that –"

She bristled indignantly. "Sensei, they did the right thing."

"I'm sorry, Kumiko-san, but they didn't." He tugged at his tie, loosening it. "Fighting is one thing, but you can't expect Yamaguchi-sensei to run around after you, cleaning up your mess."

"Maruyama-sensei," she said through gritted teeth. "That's _enough_." She put her hands on her hips, moving to stand in front of him. "Leave it alone," she said in a low voice.

He gave her a beseeching look. "You're a dedicated teacher, Kumiko-san, but isn't this going too far? Surely you can't condone their actions -?"

"I don't agree with being reckless, or fighting for the sake of fighting, but they had good intentions. And I'm glad they called me."

His jaw tightened. "How long are you going to carry on doing this? How long will they be your number one priority? And what about the other people in your life – when will you have time for _them_?" He stepped closer to her. "Kumiko-san… _what about me?_"

He reached for her hand. She looked down at where their fingers tangled together, and was struck by the _wrongness _of the picture. His fingers should be thinner, she thought, and his grip should be stronger. _This should be someone else's hand._

She was about to pull away when something knocked sharply into their hands, breaking them apart.

"Don't touch her," said Shin coldly. "Can't you take a hint?"

Maruyama sighed. "This is a matter between me and your teacher, Sawada-kun," he replied patiently, as though he were talking to a seven-year-old. "Please don't interfere."

_Oh, crap,_ she thought as a deadly silence fell between the three of them. Shin was capable of much more restraint than the rest of his classmates, but equally, he was capable of being much more volatile. She knew his temper well, and she knew the signs of an impending outburst. She moved to position herself between the two of them. "Wow, it's getting late, isn't it?" she said brightly. "Sensei, I'll make sure the boys get home safely. And I'll see you in school on Monday, okay?"

She took hold of Sawada's arm and firmly began to steer him away.

"Kumiko-san," she heard Maruyama say behind her, "you still haven't answered my question –"

"Oh, will you shut the fuck up?" Uchi snarled, making her jump with surprise. "She doesn't want to go out with you, so get over it already and leave her alone."

"Uchi…" she breathed, stunned at his unexpected outburst.

"Kumiko-san…" Maruyama's voice sounded strained. "Can we talk somewhere a little more private?"

"Are you _still_ hitting on her?" said Noda, disgusted. "How stupid are you?"

She stared at them. She'd never heard them talk to anyone this way, not even herself. They could be rude, belligerent and lazy – they always spoke before they thought, and lashed out too easily, and clashed with authority figures – but in all the time she'd known them, she'd never seen them react with this level of contempt or hatred.

Watching them made her stomach twist with anxiety. How the hell was she going to defuse this situation?

"Look," Maruyama began heatedly, "this is none of your business, so please _go home._ It's bad enough that you've been out fighting with other students – the last thing we want is for you to get into trouble by being caught out late in such a rough part of town. So I'm advising you, as your teacher, to –"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Minami muttered. "Our teacher? _You_?"

And just like that, Maruyama snapped.

This was something else she'd never seen before – Maruyama, who was one of the most laid-back people she'd ever met, hardly ever lost control. But apparently the mixture of 3-D and Maruyama Takumi was just too unstable.

"You kids have some nerve," he spat. "No wonder you've got a bad reputation if you can't even treat people with basic respect. Well, it stops _now._ Maybe everyone else has been lenient with you until now – maybe you even have Yamaguchi-sensei wrapped around your little finger – but not me –"

Kumiko had felt Shin's muscles flexing underneath her hands, saw his fists clenching, and blocked his path quickly, gripping his arms firmly to stop him doing something he could stand to get expelled for.

Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to do anything about her twenty-five other students.

Maruyama's back hit the side of his car, his feet inches from the ground as Uchiyama lifted him by the lapels of his jacket. "You fucking asshole," he ground out. "Who do you think you are?"

"Uchi!" She let go of Shin and grabbed Uchi's arm, yanking him backwards. "Let him go. It's not worth it."

But Uchi's grip held firm. "Not worth it?" He stared down at her in apparent disbelief. "How can you say that? Didn't you hear what he said about you?"

"Who _cares_ about that? Uchi, if you beat up a teacher, you'll be suspended at the very least. You know I'll always defend you, but I can't do anything for you if you're actually guilty." She tugged at his arm. "Come on. Leave it."

At last, he relented, and set Maruyama back on his feet.

She hoped that would be the end of it. But her stomach sank when she heard Maruyama's half-strangled voice.

"I want to know," he rasped, "I _deserve_ to know what the hell it is that you don't like about me. What is it that makes you want to beat me up?"

She resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands. Couldn't Maruyama see that he was only making this worse? Why didn't he just shut up? She cast a pleading glance at Shin, but he was staring at Maruyama, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face. _He_ obviously wasn't going to lend a hand, then.

Wonderful. So she had to fight off the attacking hordes (also known as 3-D) _and_ make Maruyama stop talking… somehow.

This was turning into a great night.

"… what we don't like about you?" Uchi was saying. "What's to like? You're a worthless piece of crap. The only thing you've ever been interested in is smooth-talking your way into Yankumi's pants –"

Wait, _what_?

"– but we always knew you were a _dick_head, anyway."

A few of them sniggered childishly, but she hardly heard it. "A-Are you serious?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "_That's_ what this has been about?" Her eyes darted from Uchi to Maruyama to Shin, who was standing next to her looking as cool as a cucumber, and finally back to Uchi again. "Your problem with him… is related to _me_?"

"Well, duh," Shin muttered under his breath, so low that only she could hear it. Only the fact that she was still reeling from this revelation stopped her from smacking him.

Uchi looked more awkward than she'd ever seen him. "Well, what did you think?"

She was almost lost for words. "I-I thought you just didn't like him because you thought he was geeky, or annoying, or something –"

Maruyama blinked. "You think I'm geeky and annoying?"

She ignored him. "I mean, I thought that's how you guys saw me when I first arrived."

"You weren't _that_ bad," Uchi muttered reluctantly. "But with him around, it's like… you don't…" He mumbled something under his breath.

"Huh?"

"You don't…" He heaved a pained sigh. "You don't pay as much attention to _us._"

Her first thought was that he was joking, but one look at his face – his mouth twisting with embarrassment, a vibrant shade of red creeping up his neck, his eyes fixed on some indiscriminate point on the ground – told her otherwise, and she felt a terrible, shuddering ache in her chest. _Oh._

"I… didn't realise that mattered to you," she said, hating the way her voice sounded so small.

"Idiot," said Shin, to her right. "Of course it matters."

Surprise and guilt clogged her throat, and she fought to speak. "Well… then, that's my fault, not Maruyama-sensei's. And I'm sorry. I should have thought about you guys."

As the last syllable left her mouth, she felt something cold and wet hit her bare shoulder. The first few drops of rain were small and light, but the shower quickly became a downpour. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, staring upwards into the darkening sky.

Still, the tension was easing, it seemed. The boys were more focused on the rain than Maruyama. She stared at them, looking as many of them in the eye as she could. "You're my students," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the splattering of the rain. "You'll always come first. You know that, right?"

A few of them grinned. Most of them just looked a little brighter than before.

"Okay. You'd better go home. And I'll see you on Monday." Her hair was getting wetter by the second, and she was becoming aware of a trickling sensation between her breasts. At least she'd been able to prevent Fujiyama applying mascara to her eyelashes, or who knew how awful she'd look right now?

As the boys departed, splitting off into smaller groups and disappearing from sight, something warm and heavy was draped over her shoulders. Her hands flew up automatically to grasp it, and she realised it was Shin's jacket. He had not moved away from her side. He glanced down at her and reached out, his hand skimming her hair as he pulled the hood up over her head. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"Come on, Kumiko-san, I'll give you a ride home," said Maruyama, his own jacket pulled awkwardly up over his head. He eyed Shin warily. "You too, Sawada."

She saw Shin's lips curling into a sneer, and intervened hastily. "It's all right, Maruyama-sensei," she told him. "I'll walk with Sawada. I want to talk to him about 3-D, anyway."

"But –"

"We'll be fine," she said firmly. "I'll see you on Monday."

She had only made it a few steps when she heard Maruyama's voice behind her. "Here."

She turned; he was holding out her little bag, the one she'd left with him at the restaurant. "Might as well give it back to you now." He gave her a little half-smile. "Our date… wasn't exactly what I expected."

"Me neither," she replied. "I guess it wasn't meant to be… senpai."

He gave a little huff of laughter. "I guess not." He sighed, and pulled open the car door. "Monday, then, Kumiko-san."

"Monday." She waved briefly as he fired up the engine and pulled away.

And then it was just her and Shin, standing alone on a dark, deserted street.

The loud grumbling of her stomach broke the silence.

Shin's lips twitched. "Figures you'd be hungry after a fight."

She wrestled with his jacket, slipping her arms into the sleeves. "I didn't exactly have time to eat, you know? _Someone_ called me and dragged me away before my food arrived."

"You're glad I did, and you know it." His hair was plastered to his head, and his eyes were dark as he stared at her. "Want to come back to my place? I'll cook." He shrugged. "It'll be ramen, but…"

"Sure."

He took her small, wet hand; she felt his thin, strong fingers threading through hers and smiled. _This_… whatever it was… was right as much as it was wrong.

And she didn't have the strength – or the will – to fight it any more.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, only one more full chapter, and then an epilogue, and then we'll be done! Hope you guys enjoyed this one.


	14. Chapter 13

**Title:** Stumble and Fall

**Author:** Avelynn Tame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gokusen.

**Summary:** A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

**Author's Notes:** Okay, I know this has been a long time coming – please rest assured that this story will never be abandoned, no matter how long I take to get off my lazy arse and finish it. **Also**… you know how last time I said 'there's one more full chapter and then an epilogue'…?

I kind of lied (unintentionally). Please see Author's Note at the end.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

The rain had persisted for the time it had taken to get to Shin's apartment building, and they had ended up sprinting the last couple of blocks, still hand in hand, nearly falling through the front door of the building. Unfortunately, despite having Shin's jacket wrapped around her, Kumiko had still ended up soaked to the bone, and she had willingly accepted Shin's offer to use his shower and borrow a set of clean clothes.

Now, standing under a powerful stream of hot water, she wondered whether that had been a good idea.

'Teacher found naked in student's apartment,' she pictured the headline. Of course, it would come with the subtitle: 'Involved in fight just hours earlier.'

She resolved to shower quickly and get out of the apartment as fast as possible.

This was easier said than done. The warmth of the water was cathartic, and as she massaged shampoo into her scalp, she felt her worries slip away quietly.

Until she opened her eyes, and took a good look at the very _male_ paraphernalia lying around the bathroom. The body wash, packaged in a masculine-style bottle. The shaving razor next to the sink along with a can of shaving cream.

Even if she could forget the fact that she'd been in a fight not very long ago, and on a date right before that, there was no escaping the fact that she was in Sawada Shin's bathroom. And as soon as she set foot outside the room, she would be obliged to discuss the very thing that had caused her so much stress over the last few weeks: their relationship, and her feelings about it.

Almost as soon as she finished that thought, she felt a steely resolve take hold. She would not run away this time – no matter how uncomfortable this might be, she owed it to Shin and to herself to sort this out once and for all.

Of course, that would be a lot easier if she were clear about how she felt.

She hadn't been raised as the kind of girl who would melt if a handsome man so much as looked at her cross-eyed. When she looked at Shin, she didn't think about whether he was cute, or well-built. She didn't care about his eyes or his hair or his lips. None of that _mattered_, not to her. Not considering her background, and the kind of examples that had been presented to her as she grew up.

The men in her family were not good-looking, in the traditional sense. Apparently her grandfather had been attractive in his day, but the rest of them had a tendency to repel normal women. Maybe it was the scars, maybe it was the fact that they were usually glaring instead of smiling – who knew? But Kumiko didn't care. Her family had taught her that what was on the outside was irrelevant; you had to look for the qualities _within._

Shin was smart. He was loyal. He looked out for her even when she didn't ask him to. _Especially_ when she didn't ask him to. He talked back to her, and bugged the crap out of her, and impressed her. And he did it all the time.

She trusted him. She trusted him so much that she would willingly place her life in his hands, as well as the lives of the people she cared about

That mattered. She could almost forget the fact that he was younger than her, and her student to boot. Men with Shin's qualities were rare. Some people might say that she would be an idiot to get involved with a student, but in her opinion, she would be an even bigger idiot to let him go.

She sighed, and reached out to turn off the water. She was really only left with one course of action, then. She'd have to go out there and _talk_ to him.

* * *

There was something altogether bizarre about letting your female teacher use your shower, Shin decided. Especially if you also happened to be in love with her.

He was supposed to be doing something with a fish in a frying pan right now.

Instead, he was finding flimsy excuses to stand near the bathroom door and listen to the sound of running water. Any second now, the water was going to shut off abruptly and he would have to leap soundlessly away from the door and pretend that he hadn't just been doing what he'd been doing.

Still, he reasoned, showers were dangerous places. She could slip and fall, and he would have to –

He shook his head wildly. He was being such an _idiot_.

He blamed it on the fact that he'd hardly seen her at all recently, and now she was not only in the same apartment as him, but also naked. _Overexposure,_ he thought. _Literally._

The frying pan made a funny spitting sound, and he slouched back towards the stove to prod the white fillet with a spatula. She'd picked it up from some old woman on the way back to his place, making dark comments about protein intake and growth deficiencies (never mind the fact that he was significantly taller than her).

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and stared at the bathroom door.

Tonight, he was going to get her to say to him what he'd admitted to her at the beginning of the week. And then he was going to kiss her, interruptions be damned.

The sound of the water hissing against the tiles ceased, and he heard the muffled creak of the shower door opening.

He turned back to the stove and put the kettle on to boil the water for the ramen.

Even Shin – who had known 3-D for a full year before Yankumi came on the scene, and some of them even longer than that – hadn't expected things to develop as they had tonight. For a short while, he'd thought things might turn extremely ugly, but in the end, the opposite had happened. She'd picked _them_ over Maruyama, and while Shin would have predicted this if asked, it was fairly obvious that the rest of the class hadn't shared his confidence.

The bathroom door opened with a click. "You're not a big guy," she said, somewhat reproachfully from the doorway. "So why is this thing _hanging_ off me?"

He'd given her some of his clothes to wear, since her dress had been soaked through by the time they reached his place – running, in the end, still hand in hand, as they were battered by sheets of relentless rain. He'd had a difficult time trying not to stare at the way her skin glistened as the water ran in rivulets between her small breasts.

Now he realised that the wet dress would have been better than _this._

Because the only thing more distracting than a woman soaked to the skin wearing only a thin scrap of fabric… was a woman wearing a shirt several sizes too big – so big that it kept slipping off one shoulder and exposing her smooth, creamy skin – and a pair of boxers that reached only as far as the shirt, to mid-thigh, and looked as though they might fall off at any moment. "The jeans wouldn't stay up," she informed him, playing with the hem of the shirt. "I left them in the bathroom."

"O...okay, uh…" he said eloquently, still preoccupied with the fact that she was _pretty much naked_. Well, under the clothes. "You want some tea?"

She perked up unmistakeably. "Sure."

The kettle began to whistle. He occupied himself with preparing two cups of hot, steaming tea and pouring the remaining water over the ramen. The sound of rustling fabric and a small 'oof' behind him suggested that she'd just sat down on the sofa. He turned around to see her legs dangling over the edge, feet not quite reaching the ground. The shirt was slipping down again, but she was too busy wiggling her toes to notice.

He handed her a cup of tea, and she met his gaze as their fingers brushed. "Thanks," she murmured as she lifted it to her lips, blowing the hot water softly. Her dark hair was still damp, and clung to her skin. Without thinking, he reached out and pushed a heavy lock behind her ear. She glanced up at him, surprised. Then, just as quickly, she averted her gaze and seemed to find something very interesting to stare at in the depths of her teacup.

He withdrew his hand slowly, not sure how to begin. There were a lot of things he wanted to say… but in the end, it was she who set the ball rolling.

"I've been thinking," she said solemnly, sipping her tea and wincing as it burned her mouth. "About you and me."

He almost choked – he'd never expected _her_ to be the one to bring it up.

"The thing is," she went on, "I'm your teacher." And she gave him a look of great significance, as though he might not have realised this until now.

He wanted to laugh. "Uh, yeah, I know. What's your point?"

"My point?" She glared at him. "My point is that _this_ –" she waved her hand at the space between them "– is totally inappropriate while you're still my student."

His blood roared like the rhythmic sea in his ears as he considered the weight of what she was saying. "But… after I've graduated…?"

She coloured and stared into the pale liquid in her cup. "Well, we can review the situation then."

This time he did laugh. "'Review the situation'?" he mocked gently. "You make it sound like a business arrangement. How did I ever fall in love with someone as unromantic as you?"

She bit her lip awkwardly. "I really don't know."

He felt uncomfortably nervous as he said, "So… after graduation… when I ask you out then, what are you going to say?"

She exhaled quickly, her breath rolling out into what could have been a laugh or a sigh. "Brat – don't talk like you know what you'll do. You might change your mind before then."

The movement of his hand was so quick, it almost seemed involuntary. His fingers curled around her wrist and squeezed tightly enough for her to wince. "Shin –"

"I'm not gonna change my mind," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What did you think I _meant_ when I told you that I love you?"

She wouldn't look at him. "You're no kid, Shin – believe me, I'm more than aware of that. But feelings can change. You can't guarantee –"

"Do you love me?" he cut her off.

The muscles in her arm stiffened underneath his fingers. Her eyes, dark and half-hidden behind her loose hair, were still fixed on her tea. He waited, only half breathing, his ears straining to pick up the slightest sound.

Eventually she shifted, and he almost jumped in surprise. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, I do. Even though you're a –"

Shin had never thought he'd be the type of person to _pounce_ on anyone, but he felt as though he'd been waiting to hear those words for an insanely long time. One minute they were sitting next to each other, mirror images of tense anticipation, and the next he was slipping a hand behind her head and pulling her towards him, her mouth meeting his just a second before her cup slipped from her fingers and smashed into pieces on the floor. Hot liquid splashed against his feet but it barely even registered in his brain.

Her hand landed on his shoulder and he sighed inwardly, waiting for the inevitable push. But it never came.

Instead, her fingers slid up the nape of his neck and curled into his hair, sending a delicious tingle down his spine. He could feel his body begin to react to her, his trousers becoming uncomfortably tight, but his mind was so cloudy and unfocused that he could scarcely bring himself to worry about it.

For months he had wanted this. He had waited and waited… and it had been _so_ worth it in the end. She was soft and warm; he drew her closer because the feeling of her body pressed against his chest was the closest thing to bliss he could imagine. Her lips were pliant and responsive, sliding against his and nearly driving him insane. He wanted to push further, to do everything he'd fantasised about doing from the moment he'd first realised that actually, she was pretty good-looking and that she interested him more than any female he'd met before.

He drew his hand out of her long, damp hair and let the flat of his palm skim the column of her throat, down to the exposed skin where her shirt had been left to hang open. His fingers moved down the line of the fabric, and he had just found the first button to unfasten when a sharp, acrid stench filled his nostrils and ripped his attention away.

They pulled apart, and Shin glanced across to the kitchenette where the fish was smoking in its pan. He swore fluently, pulling himself to his feet and resisting the urge to look at her face. If he did, he knew he'd probably forget all about the fish and they would burn to death in this hellhole.

The fish was charred to a crisp in the pan. He wrinkled his nose with disgust as he tipped it into the bin and switched off the stove. He put the pan in the sink to clean later, and noticed that the ramen pots sat on the counter, forgotten. He touched one and found that it was still reasonably warm. Probably edible, then. He opened his mouth to tell her, but the words wouldn't come out properly and he had to clear his throat. "Uh, the fish is no good, but there's ramen, if you want it?"

She didn't say anything, and when he turned around to look at her he saw that her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. Remorse and self-recrimination creased her forehead; she was staring ahead at nothing at all, and Shin knew that that was probably the last time he would get to kiss her for quite a while.

"Oi," he said softly, "if you're blaming yourself again –"

"I'm not," she said. "Not exactly, anyway. But we both know that this isn't a good idea – and _don't argue with me, Sawada_ –"

"I damn well _will_ argue with you if you're going to talk crap," he shot back heatedly. "'Not a good idea'? You love me, right?"

"Right –" A deep red flush stained her cheeks.

"And I love you, so what's the big deal?"

"If you'd let me finish," she said quietly, "I was going to say that this isn't a good idea _while you're still my student._"

"Oh," he said, and deflated abruptly.

She fixed him with a steady gaze, her eyes brighter than they had been before. "It's less than six months until graduation. Once you've got that diploma in your hand…" She shrugged. "You're a free man. We wouldn't be doing anything inappropriate."

"'A free man'," he repeated. Something in his chest seemed to swell and he felt momentarily dazed by the sheer _potential_ in those words – the sense of 'what could be' lay in front of him like an open road. "All right," he said almost breathlessly, the words spilling quickly out of his mouth as though they were in a rush. "Okay. Let's wait, then. Less than six months – I can do that."

Her smile was unsteady with excitement. He was pretty sure he looked the same. She pushed herself off the couch and he closed the distance between them in a mere second, his arms sliding around her waist to the small of her back just as she reached up around his neck, her face buried in his t-shirt. "I can't believe this is really happening," she said, her voice muffled and her breath warming the fabric next to his skin.

"Me neither." He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. "You better keep that night free, then."

"What night?"

"Graduation night."

He heard the grin in her voice when she said, "Okay. It's a date."

* * *

It was Monday morning, and thanks to a very long staff meeting, she was running late for class. Again.

She'd decided that if 3-D complained, she was going to stuff each of them in their respective lockers and leave them there for the rest of the day. And that included Shin.

She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she turned the corner, and shook her head violently. _Stop thinking about it,_ she self-instructed. _You said you wouldn't treat him any differently, but you won't be able to help it if you keep thinking about his mouth and his hands and…_

She stopped abruptly in the corridor and drummed her head against the nearest wall. This was obviously going to be a lot harder than she'd thought.

Despite her best efforts, it was still on her mind when she pushed open the classroom door a few minutes later.

Vaguely, she registered neat, tidy rows of desks and students sitting attentively at their desks. "Oh, sorry," she muttered, "wrong room."

She stepped back outside and closed the door.

She looked up at the sign on the wall, and blinked. '3-D', it said very clearly.

"What the…?" she whispered.

She opened the door again and hovered tentatively in the doorway. It was definitely them – she could see that. Uchi and Noda and Chikamatsu and all the rest, sitting in their seats, watching her. "It's definitely quarter past nine, right?" she asked. "You're due to have a maths class, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh," said Minami, nodding.

"With me," she qualified.

"Uh-huh."

"Right." She came inside and shut the door behind her. "Right." She cast a wary glance at them while she was stowing her bag underneath the table. "And… you were definitely expecting me? Not Fujiyama-sensei or anyone else?"

"Nope." Kuma grinned.

Her eyebrows knotted together and she tapped her thumb anxiously against the wooden desk. "Is it… a special occasion?"

"Nope."

They were _all_ grinning at her. It was pissing her off! What the hell was going on? "Now, look, you guys," she began steadily, "if this is a practical joke –"

"Hey, didn't you say you wanted more presents from us?" Uchi called out. "This is our gift to you."

"Yeah, Yankumi, do you like it or not?" Minami was actually _sitting up straight_ in his chair, not a dirty magazine in sight.

She considered them all: neat, orderly, and squeaky clean. If any of the other teachers walked in right now they would be flabbergasted.

"I don't like it," she declared, repressing a shudder. "It's freaking me out. Change back, quickly."

They complained good-naturedly, repositioning their desks, their belongings and themselves with the kind of practised ease that _should_ have disturbed her... but didn't. "You can't say we didn't try," Noda said with a grin.

"It was a nice present," she told them honestly. "But I'm so used to… _this_…" She gestured vaguely at the wasteland in front of her; bags strewn across the floor, lockers half-open and not a textbook in sight. "Anything else is weird. Like I'm in a parallel universe or something."

Involuntarily, she pictured a universe in which 3-D was a class of tidy, polite students who wouldn't know a fight if it bit them on the ass.

'I'd go insane,' she thought.

"All right," she said out loud, "Okay – mathematics now. I've made a list of areas which you all seem to struggle with, so I think we should focus on those because they're practically guaranteed to come up on the exam –"

"Yankumi," Uchi cut her off. His voice was low but it carried nonetheless.

"Hmm?"

He looked deeply uncomfortable. "Where's Maruyama?"

_Ah_. Suddenly she wasn't that comfortable herself. From the tense silence hovering over the class, she judged that they were all interested in the answer.

"I spoke to Maruyama-sensei this morning," she began. "He's decided to focus completely on teaching physics from now on. Which means he won't be attending any more maths classes, or participating in homeroom."

She had expected a positive reaction to this.

She _hadn't_ expected to be nearly deafened by the thunderous yell of, "YES!" uttered by every single one of them bar Shin, who was far too laid back for something like that. He was merely grinning like the proverbial cat at the back of the room.

"I'm sure you'll all miss him," she continued, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "And now, of course, you're stuck with just me again."

"Oh, yeah," said Minami, his mouth twisting down in mock disappointment. "We forgot about that. Any chance you could get Maruyama to reconsider?"

She laughed. She couldn't help it, and frankly she didn't care if it was a little unprofessional; everything was right with 3-D again, so she sure as hell wasn't going to complain.

"All right," she tried again. "Time to stretch your brains. Midterms are coming up and I don't want your hard work to go to waste."

There was a protracted pause, and then a series of dismayed exclamations.

"Midterms?"

"Oh, shit, I forgot about those!"

"Can't we postpone them for a while?"

"Yeah, like… until after we've graduated?"

"_Midterms?!_"

"Do midterms count as mock exams?"

"Oi," she said loudly. "What the hell? Do any of you even look at the marks I give you for your homework? You've all come really far since the start of the year. I mean, I'm not saying we don't still have work to do, but if you guys keep trying hard, you'll be fine. I know it."

"Maa, you're deluding yourself, Yankumi," Noda remarked with a heavy sigh.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Want to bet?"

A ripple of interest passed across the classroom. Even Shin, who was a master of impassivity, looked somewhat curious. His dark eyes were fixed on her face, and although she determinedly focused her gaze elsewhere, she could feel her face growing hot under his relentless stare.

"I bet," she pushed on, "that you will all exceed my mystery pass mark, whether you mean to or not."

Uchi sat forward, watching her intently. "Mystery pass mark," he repeated. "How does that work?"

"Good question, Uchiyama!" She beamed brightly at him. "I am going to write down a mystery pass mark on a piece of paper, place it in a sealed envelope, and give it to Fujiyama-sensei for safekeeping. I'll open it again in two weeks' time, after you've all had the results of your maths midterm, and then you'll see that I was right all along." She hummed with satisfaction.

Kuma snorted loudly. "Yankumi… why do you think we won't just deliberately fail? Or leave the paper blank?"

"Because…" she replied confidently, "I'm going to make it a win-win situation for you. On the one hand, if you do all fail and don't beat my mystery pass mark, you'll technically win the bet. _However_ –" Here, for the sake of dramatic effect, she allowed her grin to slip away and fixed them all with a challenging gaze. "If you do beat my mystery pass mark, you will win something much, _much_ better. So… the question is, which do you want more? A mere technical victory… or a grand prize?"

She was obviously getting much better at this carrot-dangling trick. They were all practically salivating at the idea of some mysterious 'grand prize'.

Well, Shin was just giving her a rather exasperated look, but she ignored him.

"So?" she pressed. "Is it a bet?"

After a few moments of silent conferring, carried out mainly by the exchange of significant looks across the classroom, Noda gave her a solemn nod. "We accept."

"Great!" She clapped her hands together. "Then let's get to work."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Um… okay, so somehow I have generated more plot now? I don't really get how that happened. What it amounts to is the fact that there will now be another full chapter to come before the epilogue (which, from my notes, may well be the length of a full chapter anyway, but…)

I hope you guys are all still enjoying this; for those of you who face the delights of exams in the near future, you have my deepest sympathy. Good luck!


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